


Take Me X thru XV

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-15
Updated: 2002-01-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Walter brings Alex home.





	Take Me X thru XV

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Take Me by Elizabeth Marshall

Title: Game Over  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series; follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare, Summertime, TLC, The Visit  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek, the WMM and the Lone Gunmen are the creations of the merciless Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am deeply grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her fine judgement and generous heart.  
Summary: Walter helps Alex weather the WMM's reappearance.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. Memories of abuse. M/m sex, discipline. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Game Over  
Elizabeth Marshall

Alex Krycek lay sleepy and contented, his head in Walter Skinner's lap. His eyes were closed. Patiently, gently, Walter brushed Alex's thick, dark hair, smiling as it took on the sheen of well cared for fur.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Get going. I'll make breakfast," Walter said. Alex sat up reluctantly. He had begun to walk to the drugstore early each morning for their newspapers. Walter's ongoing search for ways to ameliorate Alex's moodiness had convinced him that regular walking would be good for Alex. Alex didn't see much point in it, but Walter was insistent.

Through the drugstore window, Alex saw the man. His hair gone white. The aquiline nose, the scar along his cheek. The light eyes.

Alex froze. Reflexively, he reached for the gun he no longer carried, cursing Walter's prohibition on weapons. Carefully, Alex turned sideways, making himself a less visible target. Drew back cautiously.

Alex caught another glimpse of the man leaving the store to return to his car. He was unsurprised to see he had identified him correctly. The well-manicured Englishman. There was no forgetting that face.

Surprisingly to Alex, after his initial shock, he felt nothing more. Nothing at all. Absolutely nothing. He bought the papers, returned home. Said nothing to Walter. Ate breakfast at Walter's urging. Went upstairs to the bathroom. Vomited. Felt nothing at all.

Walter studied Alex carefully. Something about him seemed off. It took him just a few seconds too long to manage his part of their conversation. He ate almost nothing for breakfast, a fact he tried to disguise by pushing his food into new piles on his plate. Disappeared upstairs; returned white-faced.

Walter knew from hard experience to trust his subtler instincts regarding Alex's emotional state. The times he had ignored them, he had regretted it. Alex had spun way out and pulling him back in had been rough on both of them.

Wanting Alex's attention, Walter reached towards Alex's arm. Alex reared back sharply. Walter caught his breath at the expressions flitting across Alex's face. Sheer terror. Fury. Panic. A mask of no emotion at all. Alex only resorted to that when he was truly afraid...

"Alex, easy," Walter said, trying to keep his voice steady and soothing. "Breathe, Alex. Whatever it is, it'll be all right. I promise." Alex's blank expression didn't change.

Walter was worried. Alex's tantrums were one thing, Alex's silences, quite another. Already Alex was slipping away into some impenetrable interior wilderness.

"Come with me, Alex," Walter said, his voice quiet, but very firm. "Now, please." Alex rose obediently. Walter nodded to the stairs.

"You're taking a hot bath and then you're going back to bed, Alex," Walter said decisively. Alex's face remained impassive.

"Yes, sir," he whispered. Only years of iron self-control kept Walter from gasping audibly. Walter felt as if someone had just drenched him in ice water. Alex never, ever said "sir" to him, not since their very earliest days together. Neither in jest, nor when he was punished. Walter knew something had seriously spooked his lover. Wherever Alex was, it wasn't here. This was bad, very bad. Where are you, Alex, Walter wondered silently. What are you remembering? How can I help you?

Walter started the water running in the tub. Alex stood by, his face a virtual blank, his eyes watching the flowing water expressionlessly.

"Alex?" Walter said gently. No movement. No response at all.

"Get undressed, Alex," Walter said, seriously worried now by Alex's total lack of affect. Wordlessly, Alex slipped out of his tee shirt, folded it carefully and put it on the wicker bench alongside the tub. Unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them, folded them with equal care and placed them atop the shirt. Removed his boxers, folded them in quarters and added them to the pile. Walter watched grimly, noting Alex's sudden compulsive neatness. Meanwhile Alex stood motionless, naked, his eyes cast down.

"Should I take this off, sir?" he asked, touching his prosthesis. Walter winced. "Sir," again. Shit.

"Sir?" Shifting his prosthesis slightly, Alex waited nervously for an answer.

"Alex, easy," Walter said, trying to find a way to connect with his absent lover. Trying to sound casual, he teased Alex gently.

"Come on now, Alex, it can't be that bad. You didn't kill anyone, did you?" Alex shivered. The room wasn't cold. Walter sighed.

"Yes, Alex, take off the arm and step into the tub now," Walter said, realizing that this was going to take some time to sort out. Alex unstrapped his prosthesis, placed it atop his clothing. He stepped into the warm water and froze again. With a gentle hand, Walter maneuvered him into a seated position. Alex's breathing was harsh and audible. His eyes followed Walter's hand miserably as Walter reached for the wash cloth.

"Please, I'll be good, I promise," Alex whispered. "I'll do anything you say. Please don't hurt me anymore." Walter was sickened by the note of raw fear in Alex's voice.

"Alex, I would never hurt you," Walter soothed. "Alex. Do you know where you are?" Alex eyed him blankly.

"Walter?" Alex whispered. "Walter, are you real?"

"Yes, Alex, I'm real," Walter said, cupping his hand around Alex's jaw and coaxing the green eyes to meet his brown ones.

"What's going on, Alex? Something happened this morning while you were out. Alex, I need you to talk to me!" Walter watched miserably as Alex flinched at even the controlled emotion in his voice.

"I don't know," Alex said, looking blankly at him. "I don't remember anything."

Walter knew Alex had to be lying, but whether only to him, or to himself as well, he wasn't sure.

"I wish you would trust me, Alex," Walter said softly. Alex hung his head, his eyes blank and remote.

"I trust you, Walter," he said in a voice Walter barely recognized.

Seemingly, the warm bath worked some transformative magic. Alex rebounded fast. By the time he emerged from the tub, he was talking. He was Fine. No, he wasn't upset. No, he didn't want to go back to bed. Everything was Fine. He flatly refused to discuss the morning's panic attack. To Walter's dismay, Alex withdrew completely, allowing Walter neither to comfort nor confront him. If Walter entered a room, Alex was just leaving. Shortly before lunchtime, Alex snagged his car keys from their hook and vanished without a word.

Walter ground his teeth, frustrated. What the hell happened this morning, he asked himself for the millionth time. Well, whatever it was, Alex needed to lose this attitude. Or there would be some rather uncomfortable consequences.

Alex was gone several hours. Just as Walter's annoyance was beginning to tip towards anxiety, Alex returned.

"Mad at me, Walter? Am I going to be able to sit down for dinner?" Alex asked, only half-jokingly. "Please, Walter, I know I'm in trouble. I know I should have left a note. Let me make it up to you." He licked his lips, eyeing Walter's crotch lasciviously. Walter sighed. It depressed him no end when Alex offered sex in exchange for forgiveness.

"No, Alex, we've discussed this before. This is not how you behave. Making love is an important part of how we show we care for each other. You do not have sex with me to avoid being punished. I thought that was clear?" Alex nodded ruefully.

"Come here now, Alex," Walter said. "Bring me the hairbrush."

Alex laid his head in Walter's lap and gave himself over to the familiar pleasure of having his hair brushed. One of the many things he loved about living with Walter was this soothing ritual. Usually, nothing made Alex feel safer. Today, though, the ritual's charm was insubstantial against the memory of the pale, cold man in the drugstore. Alex shivered involuntarily. No one was going to deprive him of this safe haven. No one. He snuggled closer to Walter.

"Alex, next time you go out when you're upset, I want you to tell me where you're going and for how long. I was worried about you," Walter said, continuing to brush Alex's hair.

"Understood, Alex?" Walter asked.

"Yes, Walter. I'm sorry," Alex whispered. Walter frowned. He disliked the idea of discussing punishment when Alex had had this bad a day, but he wanted to be sure he was clear.

"Alex. I need to know where you are. Especially when you're this upset. Tell me where you're going next time, or I will punish you. Understood?"

"Yes, Walter," Alex whispered, trembling a little. Walter put down the hairbrush and rubbed Alex's back soothingly.

"I'm not trying to frighten you, Alex. This is about keeping you safe. Shh, it's all right, I'm not angry with you. Easy, Alex, easy." Walter rubbed Alex's rigid shoulders slowly, trying to relax the tense muscles. Made himself comfortable on the couch and tucked Alex closer to him. Gradually, Alex's eyes closed and he slept.

Walter was lost in thought when the phone rang.

"Walter, it's Melvin. We need to talk. How short a leash do you have Alex on?"

"I don't quite know what you mean, Melvin. What's wrong?"

"Ringo bought some assault weapons today on line. Untraceable. No serial numbers. No license needed. Apparently Alex is going to teach him how to shoot. Walter, something's really off here. Alex has got Ringo going through local real estate transactions, running license plates and downloading schematics for cars. He's hunting, Walter. I don't know who or why, but Alex is hunting someone, and I don't think it's a game." Melvin's voice was grim. Walter gripped the phone so hard that his hand cramped.

"Jesus. Melvin, thank you. I'll be in touch. I need to talk to Alex right now." But how, Walter wondered? He hadn't a clue to what was going on with Alex. Since this morning when Alex had called him "sir" and asked him in all seriousness whether he was real, Walter had done nothing but worry about Alex. Now, looking at his sleeping lover lying trustingly in his lap, Walter couldn't imagine what was going on inside that beautiful head. As if sensing his gaze, Alex's eyes fluttered open.

"What's wrong, Walter?" he whispered anxiously.

"Assault weapons? Real estate titles? License plates? Car schematics? Who, Alex, who? Who's worth risking everything over?" As Walter's voice rose in frustration and fear, Alex cowered into a small heap of misery.

"Why don't you just go ahead and beat the fucking shit out of me now, Walter, if it'll make you feel better. I've got nothing to say! Nothing! OK?" He spoiled his defiant speech by sniffling abjectly. All Walter's anger dissipated at that one small sound. Walter had wanted to strangle Alex, or at the very least, spank him, purely from frustration. Now all he wanted was to hold Alex in his arms until the small, incoherent whimpers of fear ceased. But to help Alex, Walter would need answers.

"Who is it, Alex?" Walter asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Walter," Alex said, his voice very soft, his eyes very hard. Walter knew Alex was lying. He had interrogated enough suspects to feel quite confident about his instincts. And he also knew that Alex was probably never going to willingly tell him the identity of his target. For a moment, Walter was almost glad. He knew how lethal an assassin Alex could be. He was sure Alex would fool a polygraph test without a hitch, and that he, with his overdeveloped conscience, never could. Perhaps they would both be better off if he honestly didn't know anything when they found the body, Walter thought morbidly. Said conscience, and a lifetime in law enforcement, intervened.

*****

"I think I'm going to have to spank you, Alex," Walter said softly. He knew instinctively that Alex needed to be punished, but he wasn't sure quite why. He sighed. This whole thing was backwards.

"Why don't you tell me what this spanking is for, Alex?" Walter asked, hoping Alex's answer would somehow provide some clues. Alex nodded sadly.

"OK, Walter," he said. Then, in a whisper, "For lying. For tricking Ringo into helping me. Please Walter, I'll tell him I'm sorry I got him in trouble. But don't make me tell him everything. Don't make me tell him I used him. I'm sorry. I'll never do that again. But I don't want him to know. I don't want him to hate me. Please, Walter? Please?" His tone showed how truly unhappy he was over having abused his friendship. Walter nodded.

"OK, Alex. For his sake, you understand? Because it would hurt him a lot, maybe more than you even realize. But you're going to take a few extra swats in exchange for me doing you this favor, understood?"

"Yes, Walter," said Alex in a subdued voice. Then, sadly, "I never got spanked when I was a kid. I got whipped. I got paddled. I got beaten with a belt. When I got older and I got transferred to the Englishman, I got caned. Those fucking canes. Oh god Walter, I hated those fucking canes. Walter, look I know you're going to spank me and I know I have it coming. But could you hold me first? Just this one time? Please..." His voice trailed off uncertainly, but his eyes stayed locked on Walter's face. Walter knew how much the request cost Alex.

"Of course, Alex," Walter said. "Come here." He hugged Alex gently. It wasn't enough for Alex. He curled himself into a tight ball, trying to fold himself into Walter's lap. Walter had never seen Alex do this before and it concerned him. It struck him that Alex was acting very, very young. Finally accepting that nothing short of a full, skin to skin body hug was going to do it for Alex, Walter gently shoved Alex from his lap.

"Upstairs, Alex," Walter said quietly. "Take it easy now. I'm not going to spank you when you're this upset. We're going to bed." He led Alex upstairs.

In the bedroom, Walter stripped off his shirt and jeans.

"Get undressed," he said softly to Alex, who obeyed silently. If Walter had known Alex less well he would have missed his slight quiver. As it was, it confirmed his worst fear, that Alex was really in free fall emotionally. Walter tilted the blinds closed, turned down the covers and slipped into the bed.

"Come here, Alex, " he coaxed. "Let me help you." Alex lay down cautiously on the far side of the bed. Pulling the covers over both of them, Walter rolled Alex to him. Maneuvered Alex's head onto his chest. Threw his leg over Alex's. Kissed his dark hair gently, rubbed his shoulders.

"It's all over now, Alex. Shh. You made it through. You survived. Shh. You're safe now, Alex. Shh, that's it, I'm here now. You're safe." Alex was absolutely silent, his eyes dry and distant.

"I know, Alex, I know. It was bad." Alex didn't seem to hear anything he said, Walter thought. Then, suddenly, he sagged against Walter and began to cry.

"It was him, Walter. The English bastard. He's here. I saw him when I got the paper. Oh god oh god oh god..." Alex cried harder, his words garbling as he sobbed bitterly.

"I hate him, Walter. I hate him so much. Make him go away, Walter, please. Just seeing him again hurts. Oh god Walter, the way he used to treat me. He hated me. He's a bastard, Walter. He liked hurting me. Please, Walter, I can't live like this, not knowing if I'll see him or not. I need him gone. I need this, Walter," Alex begged.

"You're mine," Walter said, wrapping his arms around Alex. "I won't let anybody hurt you again. I promise, Alex. You're safe with me. It's all right now. It's very, very good you told me." Alex sniffled.

"Are you still going to spank me?" he asked forlornly. Walter shook his head, too overcome with emotion to speak. Swallowed, got himself under control.

"Alex. Let's not talk about that now. You had an enormous shock. What you need to do now is rest. Take it easy. Let me handle this." Walter was already contemplating who he might call. Was the Englishman in some witness protection program, or had he evaded custody? In any case, Walter had banked a lot of favors during his FBI career. He would call some of them in, find out what the situation was, and proceed from there. Satisfied that this was a resolvable problem, Walter adjusted Alex's position so the Alex was cushioned comfortable alongside him.

"Sleep, Alex," he crooned, stroking his dark hair lightly. Alex lay motionless. What could Walter really do, he wondered? He repressed a shiver. I need the bastard gone, he thought. I need the bastard dead.

Walter awoke suddenly, disoriented, from a nightmare of shots and confusion. He shuddered, reached for Alex's warm body. Found only empty space.

Alex held the newly procured weapon close to his side. He watched the door, willing the man to appear. He remembered how much the man loved routines. If he had left his house early for the paper once, he would do it again.

Alex knew the safest, quickest thing would be to shoot him as he appeared. But something made him hesitate. He needed to speak with him. He needed to know.

The man opened the door. Silently, Alex materialized before him. The man squinted into the early morning light.

"Alex Krycek. It has been awhile," the Englishman said in his soft voice. "Does your G-man know you're playing with guns? " Alex started at the question. The Englishman smiled mirthlessly.

"Oh, yes, I've kept track of some of my favorites. I trust your early training makes you a pleasant diversion at least. Since you seem not to be working anymore."

Alex looked at the man blankly, unable to defend himself against the man's cruel assurance. The Englishman smiled urbanely.

"Not as pretty as you were, Alex, but still, there is something about you. Tell me, Alex, why are you still holding that weapon on me? Can you really be planning on killing me? I wasn't all that cruel to you. You were a very difficult young man. I had work that needed to be done, quotas to meet. Product to produce. You caused me a lot of trouble. Come now, were my little spankings really that bad? After all, I never fucked you myself. Not like Charles, hmm?"

Alex couldn't speak, couldn't move. The Englishman had counted on this. Still smiling, he slapped Alex cruelly across the face.

"Go away, Alex," he said. "I have nothing else to say to you." He turned and walked away.

Alex stood, stunned, his mouth bleeding from the blow. All those years and the man still got to him. He was unprepared for the combination of sick fury and terror he felt. He could kill the man. But what would Walter say? He looked at his weapon longingly. Touched his bleeding mouth. Felt himself falling away, past and present blurring. Walter. I need Walter. Walter will know what to do. He began to walk alongside the road. Walter. Home.

Walter had notified the Gunmen that Alex was missing. A guilt-ridden Ringo had taken the van out, intent on finding Alex. He had the list of recent house sales he had generated for Alex; decided to use those as a guide. To his enormous relief, he saw a familiar figure along the shoulder of the road near the second house on his list.

"Hey, Alex," called Ringo from the van. "Need a lift, buddy?" Alex eyed him blankly. "Alex?" Ringo asked uncertainly. "Alex, are you OK?" Alex looked at him uncomprehendingly. Ringo drew on inner resources he hadn't suspected he possessed. He remembered how he had seen Walter and Melvin handle a stressed Alex, and tried his best to imitate their commanding tones.

"Alex. Get in the van. Now," Ringo said, trying to sound as if he knew what the fuck he was doing. Slowly, dazed, Alex walked to the van's open door. Stepped in and slumped wordlessly into the seat alongside Ringo.

Back at the bunker, Melvin helped Ringo half coax, half bully Alex out of the van. Ringo himself was close to tears. He had never seen anyone he cared about in a state like this in his life. It totally unnerved him.

Melvin pushed Alex's closed eyelids up gently with his forefinger. The green eyes were totally blank.

"Alex? Alex Krycek! Look at me, Alex," he said, relieved to see Alex's eyes refocus. "Jesus, Alex, you scared us."

"Don't tell Walter," Alex whispered. "Please, Melvin, he'll kill me! I won't be able to sit for the rest of my life. Oh shit, I should have known you'd stick together," he sighed, as Melvin held out the phone.

"Either you tell him, or I do," Melvin said. Alex sighed miserably.

"Walter? I did something bad. I can't tell you!" He thrust the phone back at Melvin and fled deeper into the cluttered bunker the Gunmen lived and worked in.

"Take it easy, Walter," Melvin said. "Your getting upset isn't going to help him any. I'll hold onto him until you get here. His face is bruised, but I don't think he's hurt badly physically. But whatever that bastard did or said left him totally disoriented. He was in orbit when Ringo brought him in. The quicker you can get here, Walter, the better."

Walter thanked Melvin and Ringo humbly and sincerely for having rescued Alex. Hugged Alex tightly.

"Damn you," he muttered, turning Alex's face to his and kissing him soundly despite his embarrassed efforts to squirm away.

"Go on, get in the car, Alex," Walter said. "We'll talk about this at home. Melvin, Ringo, I owe you both." Alex ducked his head and dropped his gaze, hearing the mixture of caring and aggravation in Walter's voice.

Home! Alex's sense of relief was short-lived. Walter took his good arm and marched him into the living room. Seating himself on the couch, he maneuvered Alex in front of him.

"So you went to see him alone, Alex? Without a word of where you were headed? Without any backup? Goddamnit, Alex, how purely stupid was that?" Walter said accusingly. Hurt by Walter's tone, Alex shrugged.

"About what you'd expect from a piece of shit like me, wouldn't you say?" Alex answered bitterly. Walter felt his heart break. It's too soon to spank him, he realized. I need to calm down. Alex needs time to recover before we do this.

"Alex. Alex, please, I'm sorry. Come here, it's all right, I love you. I have you now. You're safe, Alex, safe." As Alex came tentatively into his arms, Walter hugged him tightly. Smoothed the matted dark hair.

"OK, OK," Walter said tenderly, feeling Alex tremble tensely.

"Are you going to hurt me?" Alex whispered. Walter closed his eyes, tried not to react hastily. "Hurt." Again, Alex was back in the past. It was as if all those days and weeks and months of love and care counted for nothing. Angrily, Walter shook off the sense of despair he felt. Not true, not true, he told himself. Don't go there. If you let yourself believe that, those bastards in the Consortium have won. Alex needs you to believe he can get past this. Don't give in. Walter took a deliberate series of deep, centering breaths.

*****

"I'll never hurt you, Alex," he said clearly and calmly. "And I know you know that. That's not what punishment is about."

"But I didn't do anything to him!" Alex wailed. "I left him alive, the fucking bastard!" Walter waited until Alex stopped screaming.

"That's not the point, Alex. I'm not punishing you for wanting to kill him. I'm punishing you for putting yourself in danger. That you didn't get hurt was sheer good luck." Alex shivered.

"He asked me if his 'little spankings' were that bad, Walter. They weren't spankings, Walter. They were beatings, with his fucking canes. He had these fucking rules. Count the strokes. Thank him. Don't beg. It hurt, Walter, it hurt, it hurt so bad. Please, Walter, please. I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared. I don't want you to spank me. Not now. Please, Walter? You said we had to agree. Please say it's OK if I don't agree. Oh, please..." Alex was crying softly. Walter stroked his hair, his heart aching for his lover.

"He did hurt me, Walter," Alex whispered. "All the time. I was bad, he punished me, and it hurt. Oh god did it hurt." Alex looked sick. Walter eased Alex's head gently into his lap.

"Shh, just stay with me now," he coaxed. "Shh, Alex, it's all right now. I've got you. You're safe." Walter ran his hand over Alex's lean body, glad to note that Alex turned trustingly, allowing Walter to pet and stroke him. Feeling Alex push into his hand, seeking more contact, Walter reminded himself how far his lover had come from the days when a gentle touch made him cringe in anticipated pain. Looking at Alex, he felt a wave of tenderness. Alex's good hand had crept between his lips and Alex mouthed it unconsciously. The gesture always reminded Walter forcefully of just how young emotionally Alex was, and how needy. Gently, Walter tugged Alex's hand free and substituted his own, cupping Alex's jaw in his palm, stroking his thumb gently over Alex's lips. Alex opened his mouth slightly and Walter let his thumb slip inside. Tugged Alex's jaw open, felt the sharp edges of his teeth.

The little ritual of trust meant a lot to both men. Alex relished the slightly scratchy feel of Walter's thumb on his inner lip, the gentle penetration, the way Walter's touch claimed his mouth for his own. Walter reveled in Alex's demonstration of tameness, how he allowed his lover to explore his mouth. Like a lion tamer putting his head in his lion's mouth, he thrilled to the knowledge that Alex would never bite him. It was good for Alex to know Walter trusted him so fully. The little ritual filled a lot of needs.

Finally, Walter withdrew his hand. Stroking Alex's cheek gently, he sighed. Alex stiffened.

"What are you going to do to me, Walter?" he asked fearfully.

"What should we do, Alex?" Walter asked. He looked lovingly, regretfully around the living room of the home they had invested so much effort into.

"Move?" Walter suggested. Alex looked shocked. He had been sure Walter was going to insist on spanking him.

"But you love it here, Walter," he said, confused. "You would hate moving. Running. No."

"Alex, I'm very serious. How bad is it for you, seeing him again? Having him living close by? Because I'm not going to have you hiding inside for the next however many years. And I'm not fielding any more emergency calls from Melvin. Alex. Alex, what were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?" Walter shook his head.

Alex leaned over and pushed his head into Walter's groin. Began to nudge his zipper down with his teeth. Seducing Walter suddenly seemed a very attractive alternative to talking. He resisted Walter's careful but persistent efforts to shove his head aside. Walter didn't want to hurt Alex.

"Please, Alex. Not now," Walter said gently, knowing how desperate Alex was to do anything at all other than talk. Alex ignored Walter, knowing where this line of questioning was heading, and not wanting to go there. Walter hooked his hands under Alex's arms and rose to his feet, pulling his lover upright alongside him.

"No, Alex," he said very firmly. "It's time to talk. Let's keep this simple. I want that gun, along with any other weapons you have stashed. You do not go near him or his house again. You stay here, in our house or on our property, unless I specifically give you permission to go somewhere else. No walks. No visits to the Gunmen. No runs for newspapers, choocolate, ice cream, videotapes or anything else your clever little imagination can fabricate. You're grounded. Disobey me in this and I will definitely spank you. No more second chances. Is that absolutely clear?" Alex nodded.

"Do you agree you will follow these rules?" Alex nodded again.

"Do you understand that I will punish you if you disobey these rules even once? That I will spank you?" Alex nodded again.

"Why am I insisting on this, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex shrugged.

"Alex. That's not an answer," Walter said.

"To keep me safe," Alex whispered.

"That's right, Alex. To keep you safe. Tell me what we've agreed on, Alex. In your own words."

"I stay here unless you give me permission to leave," Alex said softly.

"Or?" Walter prompted.

"Or you will spank me. Hard, probably," Alex muttered sulkily. Walter laughed. He couldn't help it. Alex looked outraged.

"You've got that right, Alex," Walter said. "Now, if you're still interested, let's go upstairs. I can think of better uses than spanking for this." He patted Alex's ass suggestively.

With a relieved grin, Alex headed upstairs. Reaching their bedroom, he threw himself face down on the bed with a sigh. Walter closed the bedroom door behind them. Closed the blinds. The room was dusky and cool. Walter undressed slowly. Stretched out alongside Alex. Stroked Alex's tousled black hair gently, twirled his fingers through the short, soft hairs at the nape of Alex's neck. Brushing his hand up Alex's hair, he kissed the back of Alex's neck gently. Licked the salty skin. Trailed his hand between Alex's shoulder blades, down to his waist. Coaxed his shirt out of his pants. Tugged until Alex lifted his torso and allowed Walter to slip the garment off his arms, over his head. Walter smiled appreciatively at the sight of his lover's finely sculpted shoulders and almost hairless chest. Gently, Walter unstrapped the harness that held Alex's prosthesis in place, laid aside the artificial arm. Massaged the reddened spots where even the best-adjusted harness inevitably chafed. Alex took a deep breath.

"That's so good, Walter." Walter nuzzled his lover gently.

"Roll over, Alex," he coaxed. Alex sprawled loosely on his back, curious to see what Walter would do next. Walter straddled his waist, knees on either side, keeping his weight on his own muscular calves and thighs. Leaned forward, tangled his hand in Alex's hair and kissed his forehead softly. Kissed Alex's eyes, the tip of his nose. Alex laughed.

"Tickles, Walter. You're being silly!"

"Oh, am I?" Walter asked and kissed Alex fully on the mouth. Used his tongue to part Alex's lips. Welcomed Alex's tongue in his own mouth, sucking it gently until Alex shivered beneath him. Released Alex from the kiss, noting with satisfaction that his eyes were hazing over with pleasure. Watched Alex lick his lips reflexively. Turned his attention to Alex's darkening nipples. Tongued the tender flesh, used his fingers to coax goosebumps around the sensitive nubs. Alex arched his back and moaned, his cock rock hard against his jeans, beneath Walter's s thighs. Walter undid the button and zipper, eased jeans and boxers down Alex's narrow hips. Alex raised his buttocks helpfully, efficiently kicked his legs free of his clothing.

Walter adjusted Alex's heavy cock between them, running his finger around the head, across the sensitive tip. Spreading the clear fluid at the top over the silken surface with a knowing hand. Walter's own cock was full and rigid. Snagging the lube from the night table, Walter snapped the tube open one handed, coated his fingers in a practiced gesture, and stroking the puckered ring of muscle, began to work his index finger into Alex's tight ass. Alex groaned with pleasure and bore down, widening himself, wanting Walter inside him. Walter refused to be rushed. He massaged the tight opening carefully, inserting a second slick finger, as Alex writhed and pleaded for more.

"Shh, Alex, let me take care of you, you'll get all you need, I promise. That's it, relax, open for me now, good, that's it." Walter wanted to fuck Alex long and deep, and he wanted it to bring his lover only pleasure. For that to happen, Alex had to be very relaxed and very well prepared. Accordingly, Walter slowly worked more lube into the tight channel, at the same time playing with Alex's cock. Alex was panting with excitement when Walter finally lifted his legs over his shoulders and eased his slick, glistening cock deep, deep inside. Walter thrust slowly, gently, keeping his eyes on Alex's face, reassuring himself that Alex felt good, as he buried himself deeper and deeper inside his lover. Alex arched his back, gasping, as his cock pulsed and his cum spurted over his belly, his chest, Walter's chest. Walter smiled and allowed his own orgasm to take him. Alex moaned as Walter's hot cum made its way even deeper into him.

"Love you love you love you love you," Alex gasped. Walter quieted him with a gentle kiss.

"I love you, Alex," he said, slowly easing his now flaccid cock out of Alex. He rolled onto his back, pillowed Alex's head on his chest. Alex snuggled into the dark fur, inhaling the clean, familiar scent of his lover.

"Don't ever go away, Walter," he whispered.

"Never. What would I do without you, Alex?" Walter said. "I love you just so much." They fell into a blissful, sated sleep.

Alex awakened slowly. Walter had taken him gently and completely. Alex stretched; contracted his muscles. Walter had fucked him thoroughly. He felt altogether wanted. Altogether safe. Altogether possessed.

Lying on his back, Walter grinned with satisfied lust. Alex had lost himself in their lovemaking with enthusiasm. Walter doubted he himself had the energy to ever move again. Luckily, his Alex was within kissing range. He turned Alex to him, ran his tongue over Alex's luscious lips, savored the taste of the mouth that opened invitingly to him.

"Mine," Walter said with satisfaction. Alex nodded, his voice soft and sleepy.

"Only yours." Alex's eyes closed again. Walter held his sleeping lover carefully. He wondered at the miracle that Alex had walked away, leaving the Englishman standing. It wasn't that easy to take a life, he guessed. Except that it had been easy for Alex in the past, Walter realized. Yet this time, Alex had faltered. And though he had loved his murderous, ex-assassin lover without compunction, Walter suddenly realized how much he not only loved, but also respected this new incarnation of his lover, who had forgone his revenge on the man who had tormented him.

As if Walter's thoughts had somehow penetrated his dreams, Alex awakened, crying bitterly, choked sobs that were as painful to hear as they were to produce.

"He hurt me, Walter. So many times. I tried so hard to be good. He told me if I was good, he wouldn't hurt me. But he did hurt me, over and over. Walter, he loved it. When he beat me, his eyes were so bright. It was fun for him. It hurt so bad. He told me I deserved to suffer. That I was bad. That I would burn in hell." Alex closed his eyes, utterly done in by his memories. Walter rubbed his back, his own heart pounding, until Alex fell into an uneasy doze unlike his earlier relaxed sleep. Exhausted by the emotional roller coaster, Walter too slept lightly.

*****

Walter bolted awake as Alex screamed, over and over. Walter called his name and shook Alex, not wanting to slap him awake. He finally managed to get Alex to surface. Alex's eyes were distant and terrified.

"Am I going to hell, Walter?" Alex sobbed. "Am I going to hell?" As Walter watched, horrified, Alex's sobbing became gagging and he began to vomit, his absolute terror plain. Walter forced himself to move. He hugged Alex, trying to support his heaving body. To Walter's real shock, he recognized the sharp ammonia tang of urine mingling with the smells of vomit and sweat. This was bad.

Stripping Alex of the sodden sheets, Walter pulled the still dry comforter from the bed and wrapped Alex in it. Seating himself in the armchair in the corner, he rocked Alex in his arms like a child, murmuring promises he only hoped were true.

"No, Alex, no. You're good; nothing bad's going to happen to you. No, Alex, I promise, you'll be OK."

""He said I would burn in hell, Walter," Alex sniffled. "He said I'd never get out of the Consortium alive and that if I tried to kill myself again he would let me die. And that I'd burn in hell forever. That God punished murderers and suicides, worse even than what he'd done to me. Please, Walter, I'm so scared. Are you sure I'm not going to hell? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Walter said firmly, his chest tight with fury. To use religion that way was truly blasphemous. Poor Alex. No one had shown him any mercy. No wonder the concept of a merciful God was alien to him.

It was a long time before Alex quieted. He clung to Walter, pale and unhappy.

"Come on down to the kitchen with me, Alex," Walter said kindly, knowing Alex would find being left upstairs in his shaken state intolerable. "We never had dinner. I'll make us some sandwiches, how does that sound?" Alex shrugged. His stomach hurt, his arm ached, and he wasn't hungry. But anything was better than being left upstairs alone.

Realizing there was no hope of conversation with Alex, Walter switched on the television, clicking to the local news. It looked exciting.

"The body of a local man was pulled from the burning wreckage of a luxury car earlier this evening. The victim was identified as a recently retired English gentleman new to the community. No additional information is available at this time," concluded the announcer. Alex stared, mesmerized, at the flames shooting from the car. Hell. He fled the room.

Walter heard Alex gagging in the bathroom. Mechanically, he helped Alex rinse his mouth. Stroked his hair. Wondered.

Alex was back in his nightmare, shaking, his teeth chattering.

"I'm scared, Walter, I'm scared of the fire. I don't want to go to hell, Walter. Please, please help me? Can you help me? Walter? Don't let him hurt me! Please, Walter, I'll be good. I promise, oh god Walter please...."

Walter was certain of only one thing. Alex was terrified. Putting his arm around Alex, he spoke soothingly.

"No, Alex, no, you're not going to hell. It's all right, Alex, I promise. No one's going to hurt you. Poor Alex, it's all right, I'm right here. Shh...Alex, what happened? Can you tell me?"

"I didn't do it, Walter! I swear I didn't. I wanted to, but I wasn't sure how. I studied the schematics, but I wasn't sure I could make it look like an accident. Please, Walter, I'm not lying, I'm not. You can beat the shit out of me if that'll make you believe me. Please, Walter, please, I didn't do it, I really didn't, oh Walter, you have to believe me, please Walter! Walter!!"

Alex began to scream. Back in Vietnam, Walter had seen a man cross the line from sanity to madness, and he recognized instantly that that was where Alex was hurtling. He grabbed Alex's shoulders, put his face in Alex's and shook him hard. Used every skill he had to force Alex to listen.

"Look at me, Alex," he demanded. "I said, look at me! Now! Alex! Look at me, right now! Good. Stop screaming. Good. Take a deep breath. Now. Alex, I said, breathe. Deep. Good." To his enormous relief, Alex stopped screaming. His breath came in short, rapid pants. Hugging him, Walter could feel how fast his heart was beating.

"Shh," Walter said, very calmly. "It's all right, Alex, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're safe, Alex, you're safe. Alex, breathe. Think. You're not the only one who had reasons to want him dead. Not even close to the most important."

The doorbell rang. Alex bolted for their bedroom; upstairs suddenly seemed safe. Walter answered the door. It was Melvin Frohike.

"Come in," Walter said. "We were just watching the news." Melvin looked at Walter for a long moment.

"Amazing, how little is really confidential these days, Walter. Especially government files. A lot of people would kill for the information in some of them."

Walter sat down suddenly on the couch, his head spinning.

"You know," Melvin said conversationally, "I never understood some of the Consortium's policies. Mulder. His father. Samantha. Fucked up leadership. But the files John found...let's just say the bastard deserved what he got. I just hope it wasn't quick." He punched Walter's shoulder lightly.

"Shit happens, Walter. Information gets out...it can't be helped. Alex's hands are clean." Melvin looked at Walter hard.

"Surely you've heard of the federal Freedom of Information Act, Walter, even though it's not your department. I only helped bring some files into compliance." Melvin gave his friend another gentle punch.

"Go up to Alex, Walter. He needs you."

"Melvin--" Walter said, then stopped. How could you thank someone for giving your lover his life back? I owe him forever, he thought.

"Thank you, Melvin."

"Walter. Alex was only a pawn. The game's over now. Let it go."

Alex was remaking the bed with fresh linens when Walter came upstairs.

"I'm so sorry, Walter," he whispered. "For everything. Spank me, Walter. Please." He sounded almost eager.

"Is that what you want, Alex?" Walter asked.

"What I need," whispered Alex, almost inaudibly. I'm just so tired..." Walter took in Alex's pale face, the dark smudges under his green eyes. He was tired, too.

"Tomorrow," he decided. "Right now, Alex, we're just going to sleep."

"I love you, Walter," Alex whispered gratefully. Walter stretched out, drew Alex to him, and both men subsided into exhausted sleep.

Alex scowled at the bright morning sun. Now that the day of reckoning was here, he was a lot less sure he wanted this spanking. Walter made coffee, poured juice, put out cold cereal and milk. He seemed his usual cheerful and relaxed self. Well, why not, thought Alex sourly, poking at his cereal. He's not about to be spanked.

Walter correctly read the emotions flitting over Alex's face. He tactfully refrained from reminding Alex that this spanking had been his idea. Walter knew that Alex craved firm boundaries, and that although he hated being spanked, he loved the security of knowing Walter would enforce his limits. Being let off a punishment only unnerved Alex, Walter reminded himself. Walter would have been just as glad to write this spanking off.

Breakfast finished, Alex followed Walter reluctantly into the living room. Walter seated himself on the sofa. Alex stood before him, eyes downcast. Walter took Alex's good hand.

"Alex," Walter said calmly, "I am going to spank you. You need to understand that you are never, never to do anything this risky again. You're not alone anymore. You can come to me if there's a problem. You do not carry a weapon. You do not go off on your own without telling me what you're planning. Imagine what would have happened if the police had gotten involved, Alex. With your previous record, carrying an illegal weapon could land you in prison for life. I'm serious, Alex. You have to think. You have to talk to me. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. I love you, Alex. I need you. I don't want to lose you. If you're not going to be sensible for your own sake, be sensible for mine. And because you enjoy sitting comfortably, which you won't when I'm done spanking you, that I can promise. Do you agree you deserve to be spanked?" Alex gulped.

"Yes, Walter," he said bravely.

"Then tell me what this spanking is for," Walter said sternly. Alex gulped again.

"This is for everything, right? For running to Ringo without first talking to you. For tricking Ringo into helping me. For carrying a weapon. For going to the Englishman on my own. For not thinking about what the fuck could happen to me. For not thinking about how my behavior could affect you." Then, softly, "You love me, Walter, right? That's why you're punishing me?" Walter swallowed hard. He waited a moment to be sure his voice was steady.

"Yes, Alex. I am punishing you because I love you and I want you to be safe. This is for everything. This clears the slate. Come now, Alex. Jeans and boxers off all the way. Over my lap. That's it." He rubbed Alex's lower back gently, made sure he was positioned securely. That his damaged arm was well supported.

Taking a deep breath, Walter brought his bare hand down hard across Alex's fine white ass. He was determined to make this spanking memorable. The depths of Alex's disregard for his own safety had shocked him. Walter covered the pale buttocks with sharp, methodical smacks, watching the flesh redden.

Alex was breathing hard. Walter continued to apply his hand to the now rosy butt, each smack turning Alex's glowing bottom an even darker shade of red. Alex was crying in earnest, his discomfort clear. Still Walter continued to spank him.

"Please Walter, no more," Alex begged. "Please, I'm sorry, I'll be careful, I promise. No more Walter, please it hurts. No more." Walter rested his red, aching palm against Alex's red, aching rump.

"OK, Alex, OK. Take it easy now. It's all over. Shh, that's it, come here, I got you." He helped Alex straighten up. Hugged him tightly, mindful of his tender bottom. Alex buried his tear-stained face into Walter's chest, soaking his shirt. Walter stroked his damp hair lovingly.

"All over. All forgiven. You were very, very brave, Alex," Walter said. "You can be very proud of yourself."

"You think so?" Alex sniffled. "You don't think I'm a fucking asshole to let you do this to me?" Walter turned Alex's face so that their eyes met.

"I think you're a very brave, very special man. I'm honored that you trust me to set limits for you. I love you more than anyone or anything in the world." He kissed Alex gently.

Alex continued to cry, but they were good tears, necessary tears.

"I love you, Walter. I never thought anyone would ever love me. I never even imagined anyone would ever take care of me." He snuggled closer to Walter.

"I'm glad he's dead, Walter."

"So am I," Walter said grimly. Gradually, Alex's breathing steadied.

"Do you want juice, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex shook his head.

"Take me upstairs, Walter. Please. I need you." Carefully, Walter helped Alex to his feet.

Walter undressed and stretched himself full length on the bed, shoving an extra pillow under his head. Alex removed his tee shirt and curled sideways next to Walter. He winced as Walter gently checked his scarlet bottom.

"Ow," Alex said sulkily. "Stop that." Walter ruffled Alex's hair affectionately. The two men lay side by side in companionable silence. Alex was soon hard, his cock straining against his flat stomach. Alex touched Walter's cock experimentally, tilted his head questioningly.

"Come here, Alex," Walter said gently. He kissed Alex deeply, lingeringly.

"Let me do this for you." Walter wet his palm, took Alex's cock in his hand. Stroked him slowly, firmly, until Alex's back arched and his cum covered Walter's hand.

"Oh god Walter, I needed that so bad," Alex gasped. Walter grinned wryly.

"So I noticed. You are inexhaustible, Alex."

"Not so," Alex protested. "I'm exhausted now, Walter. Hold me?" Walter took Alex in his arms and smiled with satisfaction as Alex snuggled into his embrace.

"I've got you, Alex. Go to sleep. You're safe now."

"I love you, Walter. I'm all yours." The green eyes closed trustingly. Walter shook his head ruefully. Caring for Alex was a full time job. He stroked his lover's dark hair lightly, traced the fine cheekbones, the dark lashes. Already half asleep, Alex smiled at his gentle touch.

"All yours," Alex whispered.

Walter waited until Alex's breathing deepened, then eased himself free and headed for the kitchen. In his experience, a well spanked, well loved Alex usually awakened hungry. He knew just what would tempt Alex's uncertain appetite.

Humming to himself, Walter began assembling lunch.

*****FIN*****

* * *

Title: Therapy  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series - follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare, Summertime, TLC, The Visit and Game Over  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek, the WMM and the Lone Gunmen are the creations of Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: My grateful thanks to my beta, Lorelei, for her unstinting generosity in sharing her time, energy and insight.  
Summary: John Byers convinces Walter to seek therapy for Alex.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking. Memories of abuse. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei, beta and friend

* * *

Therapy  
Elizabeth Marshall

Walter Skinner rubbed his aching temples. Alex had finally fallen asleep, on his stomach, tear tracks still visible on his cheeks. Walter sighed unhappily. He had spanked Alex until Alex had cried. Alex's butt was going to be sore for at least the next twenty-four hours. And Walter's heart was going to be sore a lot longer than that.

Walter stroked Alex's sable hair softly. He knew he shouldn't take Alex's cries while he was being spanked personally. He knew Alex didn't hate him, any more than he believed Alex's promises to be good forever afterwards. Still, it hurt. Sometimes he wondered if he knew what the hell he was doing. He looked at the phone. Melvin Frohike was usually up for a chat. Walter wanted to unburden himself to someone who understood his situation.

"Melvin's out with Ringo, Walter," John Byers said apologetically. "Can I help you?" Walter hesitated. Alex liked John. Maybe John could help. Walter sighed.

"How's Alex doing?" John asked.

"How did you guess?" Walter replied.

"We had a little taste of him when you were in the hospital," John said. Walter laughed ruefully.

"I noticed he gave Melvin a lot harder time than he gave you," Walter said. John agreed.

"I woke him from that nightmare. He grabbed me by the throat. Choked me. Oh, he stopped as soon as he woke up enough to know where he was and who I was. But he felt guilty, that was obvious. And he tried to make it up to me by obeying me. It's the way I was able to get him to eat. I'm a little softer in approach than Melvin, and I think Alex needed that right then."

John took a deep breath.

"Walter, I know this is none of my business, but what I said when you were in the hospital still holds. Alex in my opinion is a very fragile man. Badly damaged. Abused as a child. I wouldn't even hazard a guess at what the Consortium used him for, although we've seen some of their files and let me just say you wouldn't wish that life on your worst enemy."

"What sort of files, John?" Walter asked. "I'd really appreciate any insight you can give me. I've managed to get a few glimpses of Alex's past, and they haven't been pleasant. But I don't get the whole picture."

"As best as I can see, they used prostitution and pornography to finance their whole operation," John said. "They were very efficient. Used the prostitutes they had to breed their own replacements. Not to mention the alien medical experiments they donated their leftovers for."

Walter sighed.

"Alex almost never talks about his past. Everything I know is bits and pieces."

"Walter, you're both intelligent men. Have you ever considered therapy, either individually or as a couple? Alex deserves a chance to work through some of his past. And you... well, truthfully, Walter, I can almost understand why this works for Alex, better than why it works for you. I'll accept that he needs the kind of structure you offer, though not the kind of punishment you believe in. But what do you get from it? You don't seem to enjoy punishing him. He certainly causes you enough grief. What do you get out of this relationship?"

"He needs me, John," Walter said.

"Needs is one thing, Walter. But what you do for Alex...look, I'm no therapist. And God knows I've got my own issues. But Alex is not a well man, Walter. I'm telling you, he copes all right, maybe 75 percent of the time. But the other 25 percent? Come on, Walter--the fugue states, the times he's totally lost? There is medication that might help. And this discipline thing...you're a decent man, Walter. Can you tell me for certain that it's not abusive? Would Alex even know the difference?"

Walter's headache got worse. He knew John was right about Alex. He was worried himself. Since the well-manicured man had met with his well-deserved end, Alex had been a bundle of conflicting impulses.

"Do you have a name for me, John? Someone who is at least open to the idea of a discipline relationship, someone with some standing in gay and BDSM circles, maybe?" Walter asked.

"I'll get you a few names, Walter. For whatever it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing."

True to his word, John wasted no time before getting back to Walter with a referral. There were not many people with the specific qualifications Walter sought. Walter took the first appointment the recommended therapist had available. With some trepidation, Walter made it clear to Alex that his participation was mandatory.

"No, Walter. I won't go in there. Fuck you, you can't make me. No!" The panic in Alex's voice. The terror in his eyes. Walter sighed. Tried to be patient.

"Alex, calm down. We talked about this, remember? We agreed we'd give it a try. We--"

"No! I changed my mind! I'm leaving, Walter! Try and stop me, you bastard. I hate you. No!" Walter had Alex's good arm in a firm grip and had wrapped his other arm around Alex's waist, effectively restraining him.

The therapist's office door opened. Her eyes took in the tableau. Alex's green eyes flaming hate, his vicious curses as he struggled to get loose from Walter. Walter's unyielding hold, his quiet voice. She watched as both men's eyes turned to her. Alex's icy and blank. Walter's sad and embarrassed. She noticed that despite his obvious discomfort, Walter took time to check on Alex before addressing her.

"Easy, easy, Alex," he said softly. "Will you stay still if I let go?" Alex looked at him sullenly.

"Yes," he whispered. "But I still hate you. And I'm never, ever going inside."

"We can talk out here if you'd feel more comfortable," the therapist offered. Both men looked surprised. "I'm not expecting anyone else."

"Thank you," Walter said.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll go in the fucking office. Walter's making me pay half anyway; I might as well get the full treatment," Alex said sulkily. Walter sighed.

"Contrary," he muttered apologetically. The therapist watched his expression intently, noting the combination of sheepishness, resignation and annoyance.

Alex came to an abrupt halt at the open office door.

"No!" he yelped. Walter caught him before he could flee. This time, his voice was all comfort.

"Easy, Alex, easy. No one's going to hurt you. Shh, Alex, it's OK. Easy now, I'm right here." He spoke as though he were cajoling a frightened child. The therapist noticed how Alex leaned into Walter, seeming glad for the contact. All defiance gone.

Then again, the lightning switch in posture. Alex was back, doubly angry at having exposed himself as vulnerable. He chose a corner of the couch and sprawled defiantly, spreading himself out like so much merchandise. Walter shivered as Alex deliberately displayed himself, legs spread, hips thrust forward, eyes half closed behind long, dark lashes. Licked his lips seductively.

Please don't, Alex, Walter thought sadly. You don't have to do this.

The therapist watched Alex's display with interest. Observed Walter's frustrated glares and how Alex avoided meeting his gaze.

Walter, making a mental note to have a few firm words with his lover later, sat in the center of the couch, just out of Alex's reach.

  
"Would you like to tell me a little about what brings you here?" the therapist asked.

Alex put his thumb in his mouth and began to move it in and out, running his tongue around the tip. There was no mistaking his meaning.

Walter had had it.

"Please excuse us a moment," he said. It wasn't a request.

"Alex, come. Now." He stood up, clearly expecting Alex to follow. Alex hesitated, then, seeing the steel in Walter's posture, sighed. Better to get this over with now, he thought. I certainly don't want Walter to spank me in front of her.

"Come on, Alex," Walter said once they reached the waiting room. "You can behave better than this!"

"Fuck you, Walter," Alex said defiantly. "What, you want me to watch my mouth? Spank me then. I dare you. I agree, I deserve it. Now do it, if you dare."

Grabbing the men's room key from the basket at the receptionist's desk, Walter icily escorted Alex down the hallway. Opened the door and double locked it behind him. Alex looked resigned. Walter shoved Alex none too gently towards the wall.

"Brace yourself," he ordered.

"OK, OK, " Alex said, putting real and prosthetic hands on the wall without any prompting. "Spank me, Walter, OK? I was rude, uncooperative and a real SOB. Please spank me. And then take me home."

Walter sighed. Although he had intended to spank Alex, he had no intention of taking Alex home. But whether a spanked, tearful, chastened Alex could possibly be compelled to go back into the therapist's office without a major collapse was anyone's guess.

Alex was looking at Walter anxiously, awaiting his decision. Walter knew Alex needed him to take charge in a very physical way.

"Drop your jeans and underwear, now. I am going to spank you unless you give me a very good reason not to, Alex."

"I'm sorry, Walter," Alex whispered. "Just do it, OK? I'll be good." He took a deep breath and dropped his clothing. Ducked his head, caught his lower lip between his teeth. Waited for the first swat.

Walter put his left hand firmly on Alex's hip. His right hand traced the fine swell of the pale buttocks.

"Keep still, Alex," he admonished. "You are going to get a half dozen swats. And then we're going back in there, and you're going to behave properly."

"Oh, shit," whispered Alex. "Please, Walter, please, take me home?" Walter closed his eyes wearily and tried to remember why they were there.

"No, Alex," he said, his pity carefully concealed. "Let's get this over with."

Keeping his hand braced against Alex's hip, he dealt out six sharp smacks. Alex trembled, but didn't attempt to pull away.

"All done," Walter said. "It's all over, Alex. Get dressed and let's try this again." He rubbed Alex's back encouragingly. Alex's eyes sought his, wide and uncertain.

"Walter," he begged. " Are sure you won't take me home?" Walter nodded.

"Yes, Alex," he said gently. "We're going to see this through. Come on, now." He took Alex's hand and led him back into the office.

"I'm sorry," Walter said to the therapist, reseating himself. Alex hesitated a moment, then swiftly stretched out on the couch, his head in Walter's lap, two bright spots of red on his cheeks. His eyes wide and hazy, his breathing rough.

"Alex?" Walter prompted. "You had something to say?"

"Sorry," Alex said softly. "Won't do that again." He watched anxiously as the therapist studied him and Walter.

"Would you be able to tell me what happened just now?" she asked both men.

"It's not important," Walter said.

"Walter spanked me," Alex said.

There was silence.

"There seems to be some difference of opinion?" The therapist waited quietly. Walter sighed. Leave it to Alex to do the unexpected.

"I spanked him," Walter said, feeling ridiculously exposed.

"And is this a regular part of your relationship?"

Both men nodded uncertainly. The therapist noted the gentleness with which Walter stroked Alex's hair. The childlike way in which Alex mouthed his own hand. How Walter carefully pushed Alex's hand from his mouth, held it in his own. How Alex molded his body to Walter's lap.

"Do you do this often?" the therapist asked.

Walter tried to remember why they were there. He needed help, he had admitted as much to John. Alex's ability to function had deteriorated markedly since his encounter with the well-manicured man.

"I take it you're familiar with loving discipline relationships?" Walter asked.

The therapist nodded.

"What you're telling me is that this is a lifestyle you both embrace. Is this sexual, some sort of dominant-submissive relationship? Or domestic discipline? Or something else? What are you hoping to get out of being here? What would you like to accomplish?"

"I want to clarify some issues," Walter said, beginning to relax. "In particular, a friend I trust has questioned whether what I do with Alex is abusive. My own instincts say no, but I want some guidance."

"And you, Alex? What do you want?" Alex's eyes met the therapist's for barely a second. They were hazy and far away. She took a deep breath.

"Alex?" His eyes remained blank.

"Alex, can you look at me?" she asked, trying to get him to focus, trying for some contact. The green eyes remained blank.

"Is he on medication?" she asked Walter. Walter shook his head no.

"Have you considered hospitalizing him?"

Alex moved so quickly both Walter and the therapist were stunned. One moment he was sprawled bonelessly in Walter's lap, the next he was at the door, tension radiating from every limb.

"Fuck you, bitch," he hissed. "Fuck you too, Walter. I'm out of here. " He yanked open the door and was gone.

Walter tackled him before he was halfway down the hall. "Stop it, Alex," he ordered. Alex twisted and spit. Walter held on. The therapist watched as Walter held Alex down despite his struggles. Watched as Alex stopped fighting. Gradually Walter loosened his grip.

"Finished, Alex?" he asked. Alex nodded.

"No hospitals, Walter," he whispered. "Please, Walter, no hospitals."

"All right, Alex, all right," Walter soothed. He rolled his eyes at the therapist. "Exciting session," Walter commented dryly, smiling ruefully. She nodded her head.

"Please come back inside, Alex," she said quietly. Alex looked at her blankly, but this time she wasn't taken in by his seeming lack of understanding.

"Alex? Nod your head yes or no. Will you come inside and sit down?"

Alex nodded yes. Walter helped him up and they trailed the therapist into her office.

"Sit down, Alex," she said firmly. "No, in that chair, please. Take your hand out of your mouth." Alex obeyed. Walter hid his smile. This woman was quick, he thought. Not many people would have seen past Alex's florid hysterics.

"Now, Alex, I want you to tell me why you're here." Alex looked to Walter for help. Walter smiled encouragingly.

"You can talk just fine, Alex," he said.

"Walter made me come," Alex said sulkily.

"And you agreed to come because..." the therapist said.

"Because he fucking made me!"" Alex flared. "He said I had to, he fucking dragged me up here, he spanked me for being bad and now he threw me on the fucking floor when I tried to leave. Satisfied?" The therapist indicated the phone.

"Call 911. Report him for assault. I'll be a witness to what just happened." Alex gaped at her. Walter just sat. He and Sharon had been no strangers to counseling. Something told him this woman knew what she was about.

"Fuck you," Alex spat. "I don't want to call the police. Walter didn't hurt me. Walter takes care of me. But he did make me come today. And I don't want to be here." He looked at the therapist, his eyes pleading.

"Please can I sit next to Walter?" he begged. The therapist nodded. Walter put his arms around his miserable lover.

"Shh, Alex, easy," he whispered. Alex buried his head in Walter's chest.

"Can you help us?" Walter asked over the top of Alex's head. The therapist's eyes met his.

"I can help you clarify what's going on in this relationship, Walter. I can probably help you set some goals for Alex. I may be able to help you understand your role a little better. I don't think I can do much for Alex, unless he wants to participate. I'm not comfortable with having him coerced into being here, Walter. I would prefer we meet alone next time." Walter nodded.

"All right," he said slowly. "I suppose that's fair. I'll see you next week."

Alex smirked as they left the office.

"I don't have to go back!" he exclaimed gleefully.

"We'll see if you're as happy after we're done discussing this little session at home," Walter said sourly. "Alex, you were a complete and utter brat in there and you know it." Alex looked at Walter nervously. He had a pretty good idea what their "discussion" would consist of, namely his butt becoming reacquainted with Walter's hand. He winced in anticipation.

"Thanks for coming by, Ringo," Walter said. "Make yourself at home. Alex!" Alex was already halfway down the stairs.

"Hey Alex, sitter's here," said Ringo cheerfully. Walter closed his eyes, shaking his head. Could Ringo please keep his mouth shut for once, he thought despairingly.

"Fuck you," Alex said. To Walter's surprise, he didn't seem offended.

"Same to you," Ringo said good-naturedly. "How've you been, Alex?"

Walter shook his head bemusedly. This ritual exchange of insults was hard to understand, but if it worked for Alex and Ringo, he wasn't going to complain.

"I came by myself this week, as we agreed," Walter said to the therapist. "But I want to be clear that I'm here to discuss my relationship with Alex, not to be analyzed myself." The therapist nodded.

"I understand. How is Alex? What is he doing while you're here?"

"A mutual friend is keeping an eye on him," Walter said ruefully. "I don't really like to leave him alone," he added. "He doesn't do very well by himself these days." The therapist nodded.

"I'd like to return to that," she said. "But first, I'd like to get a little more information about your background. I see from your intake form that you were married?" Walter nodded.

"My wife died of cancer. We were separated at the time, but I helped care for her until the end."

"No children?" Walter shook his head.

"Is this relationship with Alex a sexual as well as a discipline relationship?"

"Yes," Walter said. He hoped he wasn't blushing at the matter of fact questions.

"Can you tell me a little bit about how your relationship with Alex started?"

"A mutual friend took Alex in after Alex was hurt in a sexual encounter. He called me because he didn't feel he could handle Alex alone. I brought him home with me," Walter said softly. "The first time we made love, he panicked and ran away."

"Can you talk a little about what you mean by panicked?" the therapist asked.

"He disappeared for three days," Walter said sadly. "When he came back, hungry, tired and scraped up, I spanked him. Nothing but corporal punishment has any impact at all on his behavior. I only spank him with my open hand, on his bottom, and only if we both agree he deserves it. Would you call that abuse?" Walter asked anxiously.

"Are there other punishments you impose?"

"I'll make him skip dessert. I'll send him to bed, but that's less a punishment than a way to quiet him down."

"Do you do the writing lines bit? The washing out his mouth with soap? The standing in the corner?" the therapist asked. Walter shook his head.

"They feel artificial to me, like a game. And I'm not playing."

"Does Alex want this?"

"I don't think he has the faintest idea what he wants," Walter said sadly, thinking of how Alex alternately begged to be spanked and pleaded not to be punished.

"And you? Do you know what you want?" The therapist asked.

"I want to be needed," he said softly. "I want someone to take care of. I was raised by my father and my paternal grandmother. My mother was considered 'delicate.' She had 'nerves.' As long as I can remember, my father and I conspired to protect her."

Walter removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose hard between thumb and forefinger. Took a deep breath.

"I really don't like talking about this. Nowadays I think her manic depression would have been identified and treated. She died in a car accident while I was in Vietnam. It could have been a suicide. I'll never know. Thanks to my father and grandmother, I had a very stable, happy childhood despite her illness. But it left me with a deep need to care for someone. I enjoy taking care of Alex. He needs me. I need to be needed."

"Have you found other outlets for this need?"

"At work? I've been very tolerant and supportive of some very eccentric individuals under my command," Walter sighed.

"Alex never talks about his childhood. My understanding is that he grew up in some sort of communal childcare setting inside the Consortium. I know he was physically and sexually abused. I don't know how young he was when the abuse started. I think he was very young." Walter's voice broke.

"He says he doesn't even remember a time when he wasn't having sex. It was just something you did, like eating or going to the toilet. That's exactly how he put it. He doesn't understand the usual rules. He came to me with almost no experience of ordinary life. He was alternately being used as a sexual plaything and as a highly trained professional assassin. You saw that little performance in here last week?" He pointed to the corner of the couch where Alex had sat, intent on displaying himself.

"That's vintage Alex. Getting him to allow me to touch him in a context other than sex took physically restraining him at first. He's incredibly cocky and incredibly vulnerable. I never know what will trigger a flashback. As a young man he was forced to participate in pornographic films. Recently, the man responsible for doing that to him resurfaced. Alex saw him, without consulting me first. The man died in an accident. Since then, Alex has been in a tailspin. He hardly eats at all at meals, and what little he eats doesn't always stay down. Only in bed will he allow himself to show anything other than anger. I'm scared that I'm not going to be able to keep him safe."

Walter felt drained. The therapist shook her head.

"He may improve. With medication and support, he may be able to function a little better. However, you have to consider the possibility that Alex may never be able to function independently."

Walter looked sad.

"He doesn't have to as long as I'm here. And I'll try to find someone who'll take him on if anything happens to me. But don't you think he'll get better? He's still young enough and flexible enough to change, isn't he?"

"I don't doubt that we'll see some improvement, but this is a very damaged young man. Are you prepared to continue like this if necessary?"

"I'll never give up on him," Walter said softly. "About what I said earlier...do you feel what I do is abusive?"

"Talk to me about consent. How do you know if Alex agrees he should be punished?"

"He has to specifically say he agrees, or else I won't spank him. I always ask what the punishment is for. It's fairly ritualized. I won't spank him if he's too upset to talk it through first."

"That doesn't sound abusive. This is a very unusual relationship, with a lot of factors to consider. I would suggest you try to broaden the range of sanctions you can draw on. Rinse his mouth out with soap, or make him write lines, or stand in the corner. Start slow, and see how it goes. Save the spanking for the most important issues."

"All right," Walter said.

"I would also say you could use a harder implement than your hand. A paddle or a strap may make more effective deterrents."

Walter balked.

"I'll use my hand, and only my hand. Nothing else. I won't do it." Walter was adamant.

"You seem to feel very strongly about this."

Walter nodded.

"My hand, only ever my hand. That's what I promised him when we began this relationship. I'm not going to change that, even if he wants to."

"He has asked for more severe punishment, then?"

Walter nodded again.

"I don't enjoy punishing him. I just want to keep him safe," Walter said, frustration and sadness making his voice thick. "I love him. I want him to be happy."

"That may not be within your control, Walter. You need to take Alex for an evaluation by a psychiatrist. I'll recommend someone I think will be able to work with Alex. I'd like to get his opinion before we discuss medication."

"There's one or two other things," Walter said. "Alex blanks out under stress. He loses time. He has trouble distinguishing past from present, reality from fantasy."

"That's all consistent. Make an appointment for him with this doctor." The therapist handed Walter a card.

"It sounds so hopeless," Walter said sadly. The therapist smiled at him.

"It isn't hopeless, Walter. Alex is very, very lucky to have you as a partner. We'll work together on this." She stood up.

"See you next week, then," Walter said.

Pulling up to the house, Walter was alarmed to see Melvin Frohike's decrepit Honda Civic parked behind the Gunmen's van in the driveway. He hurried in the front door, surprised to find the normally paranoid Gunmen had left it unlocked.

Alex lay curled on his side on the living room couch, his face white, his eyes unfocused. Someone had covered him with a blanket. John Byers knelt alongside the couch, talking softly to Alex, trying to get him to respond. Ringo was slumped despondently next to his laptop, nervously chewing his nails.

"What the hell happened?" Walter asked. He bent over Alex, stroked his hair tenderly. Alex didn't move. Walter sighed. Alex was becoming more and more difficult to make sense of.

"Ringo called us, Walter," Melvin said. "Apparently they were playing one of Ringo's virtual reality games and Alex flipped out. Couldn't move. Couldn't talk. Started shivering. By the time we got here he'd been sick."

"I'm sorry, Walter," Ringo said. "I really don't know what I did. We were having fun and suddenly Alex just froze..." He looked away, blinking hard. Shoved his dark framed glasses roughly back up his nose. Walter laid his hand on Ringo's shoulder.

"No one's blaming you. If Alex were a well man, I wouldn't have asked you to come over and keep an eye on him while I was out. Can you try to remember what happened just before Alex panicked?" Ringo shrugged.

"Look for yourself. It's this chase sequence. Mulder and I worked on it together. See, there are these rooms full of experiments. You go in through this doorway and you see they're alive."

Ringo turned the screen towards Walter. In a room bathed in eerie blue-green light lay rows of human subjects strapped to tables amongst vaguely threatening medical equipment. Lengths of tubing were connected to the naked forms. They writhed and moaned incoherently. Walter was appalled.

"Alex saw this?" he asked. Ringo nodded.

"It's a game, Walter," he said, pleading for understanding.

"And what is it based on?" Walter asked sharply.

"Various Consortium files we've turned up for Mulder. Motherfucker. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Alex has been there, hasn't he? On those tables. Shit, shit, shit." Ringo buried his face in his arms. Walter cuffed the back of his head lightly, his frustration plain.

"Next time, think," Walter said shortly. He rejoined a worried John alongside Alex. Alex was very far away.

"Were you scared, Alex?" Walter asked softly, no trace of his previous annoyance in his voice. "It's not real, Alex, you know that. It's not real. Alex, look at me, now. Come on, Alex, come back here. Now." His voice was firm. He took Alex's jaw in his hand, turned Alex's face towards his own.

"Look at me, Alex. That's it, good, you're OK, you're safe." Alex's green eyes wavered back and forth, between memory and the present moment. Walter stroked Alex's sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead.

"All right, all right now," Walter said softly. "Melvin, John, Ringo, make yourselves at home. I'll be down in a bit." As the three Gunmen watched soberly, Walter drew Alex upright.

"Come upstairs, Alex, that's it. Easy does it. I've got you now, that's it, you're OK." Walter murmured soothingly as he half-led, half-carried a reluctant Alex to their bedroom.

"Shit," Ringo said. "I never thought...oh, shit. I never imagined it'd do that to him, you know?" John nodded.

"We know, Ringo. None of us believes you intentionally upset Alex. It's not your fault."

"Can you imagine?" Melvin mused. "He was there. Poor bastard."

Walter carefully eased Alex onto their bed and out of his shirt and jeans. He slipped off his own outer clothing, stretched himself full length on the bed and drew Alex snugly to him. Rested Alex's head against his chest. Wrapped his arms around Alex and hugged him close. Twined his legs through Alex's. Kissed Alex's face gently.

"Shh, Alex, shh," Walter murmured, hoping the familiar scent and feel of his body would help anchor Alex. "You're safe now, Alex. I've got you. You're safe. It's all over. You're safe now." He rocked Alex even closer, repeated the litany of reassurance. Alex blinked, then closed his eyes.

"Scared. I'm so scared. It hurts. No, don't, it hurts. No. I didn't do anything. Don't hurt me, please don't hurt me," Alex whimpered desperately.

"Easy, Alex, I've got you. You're safe. No one's hurting you. I'm here now. I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe, Alex, it's all over," Walter soothed his shivering lover, his own skin prickling at the terror in Alex's voice.

"It didn't matter if I tried to be good, Walter. They took us into the lab, six or eight at a time. Stripped us. Hosed us down. The water was so cold it hurt. Sometimes I cried, Walter. Especially after I knew what was coming. I couldn't help it. They strapped us to the tables. They did stuff. Horrible stuff. It all hurt, it hurt a lot. Sometimes they gave me medicine that made me sleep. Sometimes I heard screaming. I was just glad it wasn't me. Sometimes it was me screaming. Usually someone was missing when they took us back. We'd curl up together afterwards, trying to get warm. Some of the supervisors pretended they didn't see that. Some of the other supervisors beat us when we did that. It really didn't matter. At least they were human. Oh god, Walter, I'm going to be sick!"

Alex scrambled for the edge of the bed. Walter supported him carefully. Alex retched, but his stomach was empty and he brought up only bile and phlegm. Walter rubbed his back, speechless with fury at the sheer cruelty of the Consortium's so-called scientific experiments. Felt his gorge rise at the thought. Walter forced himself to breathe and to relax his tense muscles, so that he could cradle Alex gently and reassuringly.

"OK, Alex, OK. It's all over. You're safe now, I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise. You're safe now."

"They weren't all human, Walter," Alex whispered. "The scientists, they weren't all human. They'd touch us inside. Their hands were so cold. You can't imagine how cold."

"Shh," Walter said gently. "It's OK, you're safe now, Alex." Privately, he doubted Alex's identification of the scientists. Let Mulder dwell on his goddamn X Files. This kind of cruelty was an all too familiar part of earth's history. Not that it mattered, either to Alex or to the other survivors, if their torturers were human or alien. Not that it mattered to the dead, Walter thought bitterly, recalling Alex's chilling words: "Usually someone was missing."

Walter continued to rub Alex's back until Alex's even breathing assured Walter that he was asleep. Easing himself out of the room, Walter phoned the therapist.

"Of course I'll see you, Walter. Tomorrow morning is fine."

The therapist pursed her lips as Walter recounted Alex's story.

"I don't know, Walter. I don't think Alex is lying deliberately. But it sounds like a fabrication. I think there's probably a real memory underlying it, but the whole thing feels like a delusion to me."

Walter closed his eyes.

"I wish I knew," he said.

The therapist was silent for a moment.

"I am aware that there are reasonable people who believe in aliens, for instance, Fox Mulder. His thesis is that alien abductees' reports are valid and can be documented."

Walter stifled a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh.

"I was Agent Mulder's direct supervisor for several years in my capacity as AD," he said dryly. "I'm familiar with his theories. Although I'd hardly term Fox Mulder a 'reasonable' person."

"How interesting. I take the conventional view that these alien abduction and experimentation memories are delusions, which form around some repressed trauma," the therapist said. "But in any case, can we agree that the distress Alex manifests is very real, whatever the actual etiology?

Walter nodded.

"Where do we stand on the evaluation I requested, Walter? Have you made Alex an appointment with Graham Miller yet?"

"No," Walter said sheepishly. "I'm sorry I haven't followed through. I just haven't had the energy to shepherd Alex through another psychiatric consultation."

The therapist acknowledged his statement with a wry shake of her head.

"Yes, that was quite an exciting first session we had. I would recommend you give Alex as much generalized reassurance and support as you can beforehand, and not too much warning about the actual appointment. The more time he has to become anxious, the harder it'll be for all of you. If you'd like me to speak to Dr. Miller first, just to lay a foundation, I'd be glad to."

"Thank you," Walter said. "Look, I'll get Alex there, even if I have to carry him. But how cooperative he'll be is out of my hands."

"Understood. I just want Graham's input as we work out what medication Alex needs."

"I don't want to see Alex turned into a zombie," Walter said.

"It's natural to have concerns about psychotropic medication. However, Graham Miller is very conservative and very astute, Walter. We'll have ample time to discuss your questions next week." The therapist made a quick notation in her calendar.

"Make the appointment, Walter. I feel strongly that we need to get Alex on a more even keel as soon as possible. I'm concerned about how unstable he seems to be."

Walter drove home, mulling over the therapist's words. She was correct; Alex's behavior was continuing to deteriorate.

Walter recalled this morning's altercation with Alex.

"I don't need a babysitter, Walter," Alex had insisted. "Fuck that and fuck you, too."

Walter had seized Alex's good arm and forced Alex to face him.

"How many times are we going to have to go over this, Alex? You do not curse at me. Period. What did we agree would happen if you did?"

"You'd spank me! Fine, spank me then. I hate you, Walter, do you know that?" Alex had said bitterly, even as he lowered his jeans and boxers and let Walter draw him over his lap. The spanking Walter had administered was quick and hard. Alex had sniffled despondently.

"Sorry," he had said sullenly, wincing as he pulled his clothing back in place. Walter had had the distinct feeling that Alex wasn't sorry at all. He would have pursued the matter, but by then Melvin had arrived.

I hope Alex gave Melvin an easy time, Walter thought, his attention returning to the present as he pulled up to the house. He locked the car and let himself in.

"Alex is still sulking upstairs, Walter," Melvin said. "I think he was really disappointed Ringo didn't come in when he dropped me off. Ringo should be picking me up any time now."

Walter nodded.

Ringo tapped tentatively on the door.

"Hey, Walter. I'm here for Melvin. Listen, is Alex OK? I'm sorry about last time, man." Walter sighed.

"It's all right, Ringo. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I've accidentally spooked Alex before myself. Go on up and say hi to him."

A miserable Alex was sprawled on his stomach on the bed. Drops of moisture still clung to his cheeks and eyelashes. Ringo looked at him for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was shaky.

"You really let him spank you, huh?" Ringo said. Alex nodded, his face reddening.

"Is it any fun at least?" Ringo asked hopefully.

"No," Alex said sadly. "It's no fun at all. Being punished isn't like sex games, Ringo."

"Shit," Ringo said. "Listen, dude, I'm sorry about that fucking video game, OK?" Alex shrugged.

"Shit, Ringo," he said despondently. "I know you think I'm an asshole." Ringo shook his head.

"Alex, I'm the fucking asshole. Shit, man, I'm sorry about what happened." Very tentatively, Ringo reached out, ran the back of his hand over Alex's still damp cheek. Alex turned into the caress.

"Shh," Ringo said softly, a tenderness he hadn't known he possessed evident in his voice. "Try and rest, Alex. I'll choose a better game next time, I promise. Shh..." He stroked Alex's hair lightly, watching as Alex's eyes closed tiredly. Ringo looked up to find Walter watching him steadily.

"Sorry, Walter," Ringo said, uneasily drawing his hand back from Alex's hair.

"No, don't apologize," Walter said. "I was just appreciating how gentle you were being with Alex. You're a good friend to him, Ringo," he smiled. "Alex needs all the kindness he can get. He's had precious little before now."

By the time Alex awoke, Ringo and Melvin had departed. Alex was upset.

"Fuck you, Walter! Why'd you let Ringo see me that way?" he demanded angrily, feeling overexposed and embarrassed. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Alex, stop cursing at me," Walter said quietly. "We've been over this too many times before. I am not going to tolerate your using that kind of language with me, no matter how upset you are. It's hurtful, it doesn't improve our communication, and I simply won't put up with it."

"Shit, Walter," Alex mumbled, eyes cast down. "I know. I'm really sorry. I know I deserve to be punished. You're going to spank me again. Shit. I don't even know why I bother pulling up my pants." He sighed resignedly.

Walter shook his head.

"Alex, I'd like to try something else. I am going to wash your mouth out with soap instead. Maybe that'll cure you of cursing at me whenever you're worked up."

Alex stared at him.

"What kind of bullshit is that, Walter? Like that's going to teach me anything? Did that therapist suggest this? You're a fucking asshole for listening to that bitch!"

"Alex, I've had it. Stop cursing at me. Now. This isn't going to hurt you, but it won't be pleasant either. Come with me, please."

"Fine. Whatever." Alex smirked cynically as he trailed Walter into the kitchen. Walter took a clean dishcloth and wetting it, rubbed it over the cake of soap until it was saturated with foamy lather.

"All right, Alex," Walter said quietly. "Open your mouth." Alex stared at him, suddenly aghast. A moment before he had felt eerily calm. Now, confronted with the soap-laden cloth in Walter's hand, he panicked.

"No, fuck you, Walter, no! Don't touch me, you sonofabitch. Take it away!" Alex yelped. The countertop caught his hip sharply as he backed hastily away. Walter winced at the impact. Alex didn't seem to notice.

"Stop it, Alex. Stand still before you hurt yourself. This won't harm you," Walter said sternly. "Stand still and open your mouth. Now, Alex." Walter reached the cloth towards Alex's mouth. Alex froze, then turned to flee. Walter caught his good arm and restrained Alex firmly.

"Stand still, Alex, and open your mouth," Walter ordered grimly. Reluctantly, eyes wide, Alex obeyed. Walter managed one generous swipe directly through Alex's open mouth and across his tongue before Alex twisted away.

"Fuck you, Walter, you bastard," Alex cursed, gagging and spitting, his face contorted. "Motherfucker!" He spat angrily at Walter and at the floor. He turned on the faucet and tilting his head sideways, gulped desperately. Vomited over sink, countertop, floor. Pale and coldly furious, Alex fled the room.

Walter felt sick himself. Sick, sorry and immensely misunderstood. This had been a mistake from the start, he thought as he cleaned up.

For the rest of the afternoon, Alex snubbed Walter entirely, refusing all his overtures. He slammed doors, crashed around and made a general nuisance of himself. Sighing, Walter resigned himself to waiting out Alex's tantrum and applied himself to concocting a special dinner as a peace offering.

"I'm not eating," Alex said sulkily, looking at his favorite meal as if it might bite him.

"Why not?" Walter asked reasonably.

"Because I hate you," Alex said. "You stuck that fucking soap in my mouth, even though I begged you not to. I don't want anything you've touched in my mouth ever again. You're just plain mean, Walter."

Walter closed his eyes. Alex had never reproached him quite this bitterly before. It hurt. He felt guilty enough already.

Alex watched miserably as Walter forced himself to continue his own meal. Alex loved sirloin tips with roasted potatoes. He loved sweet and sour red cabbage. Walter didn't seem to care anymore how hungry and sad he was, Alex thought unhappily.

Walter looked into the hurt, despairing green eyes of his sulking lover.

"Alex, I do love you, you know that," he said gently. "I know you didn't like having your mouth washed out. Believe it or not, I thought it'd be easier on you than spanking you. I'm really sorry it made you sick. I won't do it again. Come on, Alex, I cooked this dinner especially to make it up to you. Yes, you're punishing me by not eating, but you're punishing yourself, too. Come on, Alex, have a few bites. There's a treat for dessert, too, if you eat a little food first." Alex closed his eyes.

"Walter," he whispered, "I hated that. At least when you spank me, I know you love me, and afterwards you hold me. But that was just mean. You could do that to someone without loving him at all. You didn't even hug me afterwards." His voice was taut with pain. Walter forbore to point out that it was Alex who had angrily withdrawn from him. Obviously, he had scared Alex badly.

"Come here, Alex," Walter said softly. He filled a fresh plate with food, placed it alongside his own, and pushed back his chair.

"Come sit with me," he coaxed, holding out his arms. Alex hesitantly settled sideways into Walter's lap. Walter hugged him reassuringly.

"Good, Alex," he praised. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I love you, Alex. Here, let me help you. Open your mouth." Alex shuddered, remembering the last time that he had heard Walter utter that phrase. Walter winced too, then pushed past the moment.

"Try a little of this, Alex. That's it, that's good." Morsel by morsel, Walter fed Alex his dinner. He felt Alex's tense body soften against him as each bite reinforced how much Walter cared. Alex's reluctance to open his mouth faded as the meal continued. Finishing, he laid his head contentedly on Walter's shoulder.

"That was nice, Walter," Alex said softly. "Thank you." Walter brushed his lips across Alex's hair, enjoying the silky feel of the fine, dark strands.

"That soap thing is evil, Walter," Alex said. "I don't mean to curse, I just lose my temper. I know you hate it and I'll try harder. You can spank me if I screw up. Paddle me, strap me, whatever. But putting stuff in my mouth on purpose to hurt me..."

Walter shivered. He had never intended Alex to feel this way.

"My poor Alex. Believe it or not, most people would think having your mouth washed out was a milder punishment than being spanked. Obviously for you it's not. I won't ever use it again. I'm sorry, Alex. I understand now how scared you must have felt. I didn't mean to frighten you, please believe me. I'm sorry."

"Hot pepper sauce," said Alex.

"What?" Walter said, not understanding.

"Hot pepper sauce," Alex said musingly. "For talking back. He pinched my nose closed. I couldn't breathe." His voice grew more and more frantic.

"He made me open my mouth. It burned, oh Christ it burned. No more, please no more. I'll be good, I promise!" Once again, Alex was adrift in the past. Walter shook his head sorrowfully. So many, many triggers. So many nightmarish memories. He rocked Alex slowly, in the soothing rhythm they had long ago established. Gradually Alex seemed to resurface.

"You could always gag me, Walter," Alex said tonelessly. "That always worked. I was always quiet then."

Walter shivered again.

"Alex, please, I made one mistake. For the love of God, I'm not them. I'll never hurt you." Walter's voice cracked.

The therapist winced.

"I imagine that must have been very upsetting, Walter."

"It was awful. I seem to have triggered a whole set of negative associations. By the time Alex was through, I felt like a total bastard. What they did to him..." Walter shook his head. The therapist nodded empathetically.

"I want you to be clear that you aren't responsible for his reaction, Walter. It was extreme and impossible to anticipate. When I recommended washing out his mouth with soap, I thought of it essentially as a very mild form of negative reinforcement, which it would be for most adults. Evidently, in light of what you've reported, it was anything but that from Alex's point of view. I regret that I put you in this position, Walter."

"I don't mean to sound as if I'm blaming you," Walter sighed. "You only suggested it. I did it. I didn't have to. I could have pulled back when Alex first resisted so strongly. It's just that he always initially protests being punished, no matter how much he knows he deserves it. It's so hard to know what's going to really throw him."

"We're working with someone who's survived an extraordinary array of traumatic experiences. We're not always going to be able to predict his responses accurately. What we need to look for are the warning signs that indicate something is too stressful for him to tolerate. Pupil dilation. A shift in breathing patterns. Altered muscle tension. Even more subtle changes. We need to help Alex learn to identify his early warning signs himself and communicate them to you. We need to teach him to warn you before he gets to the point of panic. I suspect from his point of view it seems to happen instantaneously. We need to slow the process down."

"How do we do that?" Walter asked.

"Under normal circumstances, I would work on some relaxation exercises with him. I would try to increase his general body awareness. Have him connect with the various parts of his body. Have him identify and name various sensations. We'd do some movement exercises, try to open the mind-body connection up. Since Alex won't be working with me directly, what I will do is explore some of these techniques with you. Then you can work through them at your own pace with Alex. You're not going to see instant results, Walter. What we're looking for in incremental progress. How was Alex the rest of the week?"

"He doesn't sleep well. He hardly eats at all. He's angry all the time. Every other word out of his mouth is a curse."

"Don't put off the appointment with Dr. Miller any longer, Walter. What I'm hearing from you is not encouraging. Try having Alex write lines; it may help engage his more rational side. And don't give up hope. Pay attention to your own eating and sleeping patterns; you need to support yourself as well as Alex."

"All right," Walter said. "See you next week." He drove tiredly home. Alex had been up wandering half the night. Between tracking Alex down and alternately coaxing and coercing him back into bed, Walter had gotten precious little sleep. Walter sighed. Alex was not easy these days.

"Stay put a moment, Alex," Walter said, watching Alex finish his usual afternoon coffee and cake. Sweets were about the only things Alex seemed able to keep down.

"I want to talk to you."

Alex licked his lips nervously. This sounded worrisome.

"Have you ever had to write lines, Alex? Copy a sentence over again and again, as discipline?" Walter asked, trying for a neutral tone. Alex gaped at Walter.

"People really do shit like that, Walter?" he asked. Walter nodded.

"Apparently some people find it very helpful," Walter said, hoping Alex was going to find the idea intriguing. "It allows them to think about what they've done wrong and how they might do better."

"Well, I wouldn't. I won't do it. You can't fucking make me," Alex said rebelliously.

"Don't curse, Alex," Walter said reflexively. Alex gulped.

"Would you at least be willing to give it a try, Alex?" Walter asked. "The point would be for you to calm down and think rationally about what you're writing, about what you did and why you did it."

Alex watched Walter's expression intently. He could tell Walter really wanted to give this a shot.

"I guess it sounds OK," said Alex doubtfully. "What would I have to write and how many times would I have to write it, Walter?" Actually, it sounded awful, cold and threatening, Alex thought unhappily. But Walter seemed determined and Alex wanted to cooperate. He knew he was behaving badly. He knew Walter was frustrated with him. He didn't want to feel this angry and agitated all the time. And he hadn't a clue how to make himself feel better.

"I'll give you a sentence, say, 'I always come to a complete stop at stop signs," and you'll write it, say, fifty times," Walter explained, proud of the example he'd thought of. Alex's driving was as erratic as the rest of his recent behavior. Alex blanched.

"Shit, Walter, that's brutal," Alex said sullenly. "Couldn't you just cut my other fucking arm off while you're at it? Christ!"

Walter scowled. What an attitude.

"Let's start with this then, Alex," he said. Taking a pad of paper, Walter wrote out two sentences in his precise script:

I only drink coffee before 4 p.m. I stay in bed until morning.

Alex stared at the two lines, outraged.

"Shit, Walter. That's not fair."

Walter glared back at Alex.

"I have talked until I'm blue in the face. You are going to sleep through the night if it kills us both. No more coffee with dessert, Alex, unless it's decaf. No more all night channel and web surfing."

"Fine, Walter. I'll skip the coffee. I'll stay in bed. But I'm not going to write a fucking dissertation about it. Forget it," Alex snapped.

Never had Walter been so tempted to apply a few smart whacks to his defiant lover's bottom. But spanking Alex to convince him to write lines seemed a violation of his promise never to spank Alex unless Alex agreed he deserved it. Swatting Alex's butt wouldn't hurt him, might even ensure his reluctant cooperation, but it would frighten Alex and undermine his trust in Walter.

Instead, Walter took a deep breath and sharpened his tone.

"Alex. Sit down, take the pen, and copy out those lines. Fifty times each, please. Do it, Alex. Now."

"Fuck you too, Walter. Fine. Give me the fucking pen." Alex glared furiously at Walter, then began to write. Walter sighed with relief as he watched Alex work. Walter drifted out of the room, feeling quite smug at his success in insisting on this new found, non-corporal punishment. He returned to check on Alex's progress, casually looking over Alex's shoulder. Felt his gut twist. He stared at Alex's paper in disbelief.

Fuck you Walter I hate you Walter  
Fuck you I hate you  
Fuck you Walter I hate you Walter

Line after line after line.

"Like your fucking lines, Walter? You can beat me to death and that's all you'll ever get out of me, you bastard," Alex hissed. Walter was taken aback at the fury in his eyes. Walter inhaled sharply.

"Don't curse at me, Alex," he warned. "Not unless you want to be sleeping face down tonight." Alex gulped. The two men glared at each other. Silently, Walter turned and walked out of the room.

Walter had seldom felt so frustrated. Why did Alex have to make everything into a struggle? Walter was ready to forget this whole idea. He was ready to tell the therapist just what to do with the soap and the lines and the as yet untested corner time...Walter sighed. Great, one more trick left to try. Maybe another day. Meanwhile, he was going to treat himself to a workout and a shower.

Accordingly, Walter headed downstairs to the basement. He stretched perfunctorily, adjusted his weights, and proceeded to push himself through a rigorous series of lifts. Finally, sweat soaked and satisfied, he returned upstairs, stripped and enjoyed the longest, hottest shower he'd allowed himself in weeks. Toweled himself dry. Rolled his loosened shoulders. Ahh. He felt much, much better. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and stepped out of the bathroom, barely avoiding the figure sprawled prone across the doorway.

Alex lay limply on the floor, his eyes wide and empty. In his good hand he clutched a sheaf of papers. Walter bent over and taking them from Alex's frozen hand, ruffled through them quickly.

I'm so sorry I'm so scared  
I'm sorry I'm scared  
I'm scared I'm scared I'm scared

Over and over.

"Alex," Walter said gently. "Alex, please, look at me." He seated himself cross-legged on the floor alongside Alex, tugged Alex's head into his lap. Stroked his hair consolingly. Alex eyed him listlessly.

"I'm so sorry," he mouthed silently. "I'm so scared." Gently, Walter took Alex's good hand in his. Massaged the cramped fingers, carefully rotated the rigid wrist.

"Does this hurt, Alex?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes, sir," Alex said softly. Walter sighed. Shit. Goddamnit to hell. Alex could make a saint curse.

"I'm sorry, Alex," Walter said. "I didn't mean for this to happen." He stroked Alex's hair, rubbed his back in slow, gentle circles. Alex snuggled into his lap.

"You're nice, Walter," he whispered. "You love me. I do know that. I trust you. Walter, I get so scared sometimes. When I know you're angry and you're not holding me, I feel as if I'm not even real. Like I don't exist. I can't explain. I know it's stupid. It's just so scary."

Walter shook his head worriedly as he repeated Alex's words to the therapist. She nodded.

"He's amazingly articulate, Walter. That's actually a great strength. For him to be able to describe his feelings so acutely is a big help. Now we know why writing the lines was so problematical. A combination of disapproval and distance. Deadly to him. Try it again. Just stay with him."

Walter drove home, resolved to give the lines another chance.

"Go away, Walter," Alex said.

Walter sat down anyway.

"Come on, Alex, what's the point of making this harder on yourself than it has to be?" Walter asked gently. "Here." He tugged Alex into his arms. Alex jerked angrily, abruptly away.

"Fuck you, Walter. You don't know shit. This is how you make me write the fucking lines." Alex yanked his own jeans and boxers down, lowered himself bare bottomed across Walter's knees.

"Spank me, Walter," Alex said, to Walter's utter bemusement. "Hit me hard. Until I cry and can't stop. Then tell me I have to write the fucking lines or you'll spank me again, even harder. Then do it. Beat the shit out of me." Alex's voice was ice cold.

Walter's throat tightened. Alex knew all too well how to coerce obedience. It didn't take much imagination to figure out how Alex had been taught that lesson. Walter allowed himself a brief, violent fantasy of the revenge he wanted to inflict on those cruel Consortium bastards who had raised Alex. He sighed. It was pointless to wish things were different. Walter took a deep breath, let it out slowly. He looked down at Alex sadly.

"This isn't working for me, Alex," Walter said, gently shoving Alex off his lap. "You know I'll never hurt you. Come on, pull up your jeans and underwear and come sit with me." Alex obeyed silently.

"I'm sorry, Walter," he whispered. "Please don't be mad. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I was trying to help." He sounded scared and confused. Walter put his arm around Alex and hugged him close. Alex felt cold and shaky.

"It's OK, Alex, it's all right," he soothed. "Maybe it's unreasonable to expect you to be able to do this. Shh, that's it, just take it easy now."

Alex sniffled quietly. Carefully, Walter cuddled Alex's head against his chest, stroked his sweaty black hair, rubbed his trembling shoulders.

"Alex, it's all right, really it is. There are other punishments besides writing lines we can discuss. I'm not going to spank you for not doing something that scares you this much. I won't do it, Alex." He smoothed Alex's damp hair gently back from his forehead.

"Shall we give it one more try? This is just an experiment. We'll stop if it doesn't work. Don't be afraid, Alex. I'll stay with you the whole time, I promise. Easy now..." Slowly, Alex sank back into Walter's reassuring warmth. Walter rubbed Alex's tense back, kneaded his tight shoulders. He positioned pen and paper before Alex.

"Write, Alex. Think about what you're writing. I'm here, you're not alone. That's it, Alex."

"I hate this, Walter," Alex said miserably. Walter's hand made gentle circles on his back.

"It makes my arm hurt."

"OK, Alex, OK. Stop then. Remember, we said this was an experiment. I don't want you to hurt your arm." Walter patted Alex's hand reassuringly.

"I'm not sure, Walter," said the therapist slowly. "It sounds very manipulative, if you ask me. He doesn't like writing lines, that's true. But I think he could tolerate it. It's up to you. If you find it too stressful, then let's leave it alone."

"I'll never get over that first time I had him do it," Walter said. "Finding him lying dazed on the floor. It hurt. I felt responsible."

"Don't underestimate him, Walter. I suspect he's tougher than you think. He needs to accept responsibility for his own actions. You need to let him."

"He's more fragile than you think," Walter countered. "You haven't seen him when he's crying. He gets scared." The therapist smiled gently.

"He's your lover, Walter. It's natural for you to find his distress upsetting. You need to decide what you can tolerate. You're in charge of this relationship, not me. Just ask yourself honestly whether it's you or Alex who is the more distressed here. In the long run, whether you decide to have him write lines or not is a lot less important than understanding why you make that decision. And Walter, we need that psychiatric consult. Don't put it off any longer. Alex needs medical support. You cannot do this alone."

"I know," Walter said. "I'll follow up on this. I'm just worried."

"You have real reasons to be worried. Alex is not in a stable position. This situation is not going to resolve spontaneously. You need to have him evaluated. Do it this week, Walter. It's important."

Walter nodded. He knew the therapist was right.

"Meanwhile, keep trying to expand your options for sanctions. Remember that it's not punishment if Alex likes it. We know he's going to resist. We also know he needs boundaries. Especially now, when he's not at his best."

"OK. Thank you. See you next week," Walter said soberly.

This time, Walter decided, there would be no surprises. He would give Alex ample time to consider the new sanctions and voice any concerns he might have. It was with great trepidation that Walter broached the idea of corner time. To his surprise, Alex seemed to find this soothing. He stood quietly where Walter placed him, shifting his weight occasionally, but not fighting or cursing. Walter remembered all the times he'd found Alex hiding, rocking, his arm around his knees, and realized that the corner was simply a more ritualized form of Alex's own method for chilling out. Alex balked at only one thing.

"I won't face the wall if you're not in the room, Walter," Alex warned. "It's not safe if you're not watching my back for me."

Walter nodded. I can live with that, he thought. He also knew better than to try to leave a freshly spanked, tearful Alex to quiet down anywhere outside his arms.

Guiltily, Walter called Dr. Graham Miller's office and secured the earliest appointment he could convince his nurse to book. It remained an open question how best to prepare Alex for the visit. Walter decided that the therapist's suggestion, to offer a lot of support and only a little notice before the appointment, seemed a sound strategy. Perhaps an evening of sex, sweets and snuggling would mellow Alex sufficiently to see that the session with Dr. Miller went smoothly.

"Let's go to bed early tonight, Alex," Walter said softly. "But first, how does a warm bath sound?"

"Really, Walter?" There was no mistaking the longing in Alex's voice. He trailed Walter into the bathroom. For once at ease, he stripped and sat on the wicker bench with its pile of fresh towels, watching as Walter ran warm water into the tub.

"It feels good, Alex," Walter said, testing the temperature with his hand. Alex quietly slipped into the water.

"I love when you do this for me," Alex said, leaning into Walter as he carefully soaped his back and shoulders, ran the soft washcloth over his chest and down his good arm. Gently cleaned his damaged arm. Alex stretched his feet out of the water, resting his calves against the side of the tub. Walter soaped each foot, working the cloth carefully between Alex's toes, over his ticklish arch and instep, around his ankles, up his calves.

"Shift over, you," he ordered. Obediently Alex turned sideways. Walter soaped his lower back and buttocks, then ran the cloth gently between his thighs.

"Umm," Alex groaned happily. Walter laughed.

"Don't rush me," he groused. "Sit back up and let me do your hair now, Alex." He massaged Alex's scalp, working his thumbs into the tight knots at the nape of Alex's neck. Alex leaned back, his body soft and pliant, his expression relaxed and happy. Gently, carefully, Walter rinsed off the shampoo and soap.

"Do you want to come out now, or would you rather soak a little longer, Alex?" Walter asked.

"Sit with me while I soak, Walter?" Alex asked hopefully.

"Sure, Alex. Here, let me warm the water up a little." Walter ran more warm water into the tub, stirred it with his hand.

What we need, Walter thought wistfully, is a bigger tub, so that we could bathe together. Walter smiled to himself. That would make a nice gift for ourselves someday. A plan began to form in the back of his mind.

"Alex, you're wrinkling," Walter finally said, looking at his blissed out lover. Alex grinned sheepishly, letting Walter help him to his feet. Walter wrapped him in a clean bath sheet, warm from the radiator. His eyes closing with pleasure, Alex leaned into Walter as Walter carefully patted him dry through the thick terrycloth. Keeping the towel wrapped around Alex, Walter led him into their bedroom. He had already drawn the blinds and turned down the covers.

Alex stretched languorously as Walter unwrapped him. Walter covered Alex with a sheet, not wanting him to be chilly. Undressing, he slipped into bed alongside Alex. Alex rolled into Walter's arms, pressing the full length of his warm, lean body against Walter's more heavily muscled frame. Walter kissed Alex, savoring his sweet, clean taste. Alex returned his kiss eagerly, his tongue teasing the inside of Walter's mouth.

"I love it when you're happy with me, " Alex whispered.

"You're so beautiful, Alex," Walter murmured, looking at his lover's half closed green eyes with their fringe of long dark lashes. His small nose, his fine cheekbones. His luscious lips.

"So are you, Walter," Alex sighed, taking in the warm brown eyes, the slow smile, the broad shoulders. He rubbed his cheek happily against Walter's furry, well-muscled chest.

With long, loving strokes, Walter explored Alex's almost hairless chest and belly. Noted sadly how thin Alex had become. Gently, Walter opened Alex's legs. Alex's cock was rigid against his stomach. Walter stroked Alex's inner thighs, the bottom curve of his buttocks. The tender skin behind his balls. The heavy, wrinkled sack itself. Alex twisted eagerly, trying for more contact.

"Shh," Walter soothed. "Let me take care of you." Alex tried to be patient as Walter lovingly massaged his body.

"Please, Walter, please, fuck me, fuck me now," Alex begged. Sliding down the bed, Walter grasped Alex's cock firmly and licked slowly around the head and tender ridge of flesh below. Widening his lips, he drew both head and shaft deep into his mouth.

"Oh god Walter, that's good, that's so, so good, oh yes, please!" Alex arched his back. Walter moved his mouth rhythmically over the swollen shaft, enjoying Alex's unrestrained moans of pleasure.

"I'm going to come, Walter," Alex warned, shoving at Walter's head. Walter gently pushed his hand away. He kept his mouth fast on Alex's cock as the salty fluid pulsed over his lips and chin. Teased his tongue gently over the still throbbing slit despite Alex's protests.

"Enough, Walter, enough. Shit. That was intense. I love you so much, Walter." Walter wiped his face against the rumpled sheets and gathered Alex in his arms, kissing him soundly. Alex opened his mouth, licked at the taste of himself still lingering on Walter's lips. He trailed his fingers down Walter's stomach teasingly, circled his hardened cock.

"Let me make you happy, Walter. What would you like?"

"Lie on your stomach, OK?" Walter coaxed. "Here, open your legs. That's it, good." He slid first one pillow, then a second, under Alex's hips. Kissed the small of Alex's back lovingly. Using both hands, he gently parted Alex's buttocks and began to run his tongue carefully around the tight crinkled opening. Alex moaned incoherently. Pointing his tongue, Walter began to press inwards, his hands restraining Alex's attempts to shift away. Alex whimpered.

"So good, Walter, so good. You don't have to." Walter lifted his head briefly.

"Let me lick you, Alex. You're all mine, aren't you?"

"Yes, Walter, all yours," Alex agreed softly.

"Every part of you, Alex?"

"Every part of me, Walter."

"Shh, then, Alex. Relax. Let me take care of you." Alex gave himself over to the warm, wet tongue that gently rimmed and opened his ass, to the mouth intent on giving him pleasure. Walter felt Alex's muscles soften under his loving assault. Alex twitched bonelessly. Walter paused. He snagged the lube and coating his fingers, began to further loosen and relax Alex. Alex's legs sprawled wider, allowing Walter's hands unrestricted access. Walter worked two gentle fingers into Alex's ass, felt Alex relax even more deeply. Walter used the gel to slick his own rigid cock.

"Please, Walter, I need you in me." Walter smoothly slid his cock up Alex's ass and began to fuck him with slow, deep strokes. Alex pressed back, widening himself, sighing with pleasure.

With a final slow thrust, Walter shot his cum deep into Alex. Withdrew carefully, rolled on his back and scooped Alex against him, holding him in a snug embrace. Alex tried to open his eyes, succeeded in blinking once, then snuggled trustingly into Walter.

"I'm dead," Alex muttered softly. Walter laughed quietly.

"I doubt it, Alex." He stroked Alex's hair tenderly. "I love you, Alex. Sleep now. Shh, Alex, that's good, sleep."

Walter had always enjoyed holding Alex while he slept. He admired his lover's fine, milk white skin. Frowned at the faint outlines of ribs and hipbones. He needs to start eating again, Walter thought. Gently, Walter rubbed his hand along Alex's back, felt Alex soften. His heart melted at the thought of how far Alex had come from the days when a gentle touch brought only terror.

Alex dozed happily. To be snuggled safely in their bed, with Walter holding and petting him, was heaven. He sighed blissfully as he returned to consciousness. There was only one thing that could make this moment even better.

"I never got my dessert," Alex said wistfully. Walter tried not to laugh at Alex's aggrieved tone.

"Hmm," Walter said playfully, looking Alex up and down. "I wonder if I left you any." Alex groaned.

"Come on, Walter, don't tease me," Alex grumbled. "This is important. Tell me what's for dessert, Walter!"

"Patience, Alex," Walter remonstrated. "Give me a moment. I'll be right back."

Walter washed his face and hands, brushed his teeth, then slipped downstairs and returned with a small box of fancy pastries. Tiny fruit tarts. Miniature custard cups. Little chocolate mousse puffs. Alex studied them carefully, sighed joyfully.

"Feed me, Walter?" he begged. Walter propped pillows behind himself and took Alex in his arms. Held the first pastry to Alex's mouth. Alex nibbled it slowly and carefully from Walter's hand, then licked Walter's fingers clean.

"More?" Alex asked hopefully. Walter fed Alex bite after bite of pastry as Alex reclined against him, totally content.

"I wish we could stay like this forever, Walter," Alex whispered. "I love you so much, Walter. I hate it when you're angry with me. I don't know what's wrong with me. I want to be good, I really do try. I just feel so bad all the time." Walter rocked him gently.

"I know, Alex, I know. It's been a tough time for you. I'm going to help make things better. Promise. Which is why we have an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow, Alex. Come with me nicely this time," Walter coaxed. "I have a very special treat in mind if you're good."

"I think you set me up here, Walter," Alex groused. Walter kissed him and fed him the last bite of pastry. Alex sighed resignedly.

"It was a disaster last time, Walter," Alex said unhappily.

"Be good this time, Alex," Walter admonished. He drew his finger across Alex's ass in a gentle reminder.

"I'll be good, Walter," Alex said hastily. "You won't have to spank me. Just stay with me, OK? Please? I swear I'll be good this time. Just don't leave me."

"I'll be right there, Alex," Walter promised. "Thank you for doing this for me. Thank you for doing this for us."

Dr. Graham Miller looked at his morning's schedule, brushed his unruly light hair back with a neatly manicured hand and smiled. Walter Skinner and Alex Krycek. His lengthy discussion with their therapist had made clear this was going to be an interesting couple to work with. He enjoyed a challenge. Hearing the buzzer, he opened his office door with a smile, his pale blue eyes bright with goodwill.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he said in his soft, upper class English accent. "Please, come in."

Alex was gone before Walter could even voice his reassurance. One moment he was there, the next moment he wasn't. Dr. Miller blinked in astonishment.

"What on earth? I have never seen anyone vanish that quickly!"

Walter sighed and extended his hand.

"Walter Skinner. Look, I'm sorry," he said. "You bear an uncanny resemblance to a man who abused Alex horribly and whose recent reappearance and subsequent death is part of why we're here. You have the same accent, the same build and the same coloring. I apologize for Alex's behavior. He's very fragile these days and he wasn't prepared for this encounter."

Dr. Miller grimaced.

"Oh dear, how unfortunate. I see we have a problem. Perhaps we should reschedule."

"Thank you," said Walter. "Again, I'm sorry. I'll be in touch."

Walter walked dispiritedly back to the parking lot. He hoped Alex would have the presence of mind to realize he was overreacting. He came to an abrupt stop where he had parked the car. Oh, this was just great. No trace of the car. No trace of Alex. Goddamnit.

Walter tried to remember if Alex had taken car keys. Probably. Now where would he go? Home, Walter prayed. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Walter used his cell phone to dial a local car service and arrange a ride home. Took a deep, relieved breath at the sight of his car in their driveway. Thank God. His stomach hurt, badly. He walked into the kitchen and took a hefty swig of antacid from the bottle in the refrigerator.

"Walter?" A shaken, angry Alex materialized in the hallway. Walter forced himself to breathe. Deliberately softened his voice.

"Alex. Are you all right?"

"Don't touch me, Walter," Alex warned. "I hate you."

Walter's gut clenched.

"Alex, listen to me. I know you're upset. It's OK. I'm not angry with you. I didn't know either. I was startled too. Please, Alex, come here to me. It's safe here, I promise. Come here now."

"Walter? I'm afraid. I don't know what to do," Alex whispered.

"Come here, Alex. Now," Walter said. "Listen to me, Alex. Come to me now."

"Are you sure, Walter?" Alex sounded very young and very scared.

"Yes, Alex. Do what I tell you. I want you to come here. Now, Alex."

"All right," Alex said softly. He came quietly into Walter's embrace. Walter backed them slowly towards the stairs.

"Good, Alex. I've got you now. It's all right, you're safe. It's not him, you know that. Come on, Alex, come upstairs with me. Shh..."

Trembling, Alex leaned into Walter, allowed himself to be led upstairs. Sank gratefully onto their bed.

"Home," he whispered. "Safe." Then in a despairing voice, "Walter? Are you going to spank me?"

Walter closed his eyes.

"No, Alex. I know you were scared. You did the right thing, coming home. I'm not going to punish you. Shh, it's OK. Try and rest." He rubbed Alex's back in gentle circles, trying to ease Alex into sleep. Finally, Alex sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He mouthed his good hand unconsciously. Walter watched him shudder, knew it was only a matter of time before Alex would wake up screaming, in the grip of yet another nightmare. Goddamnit.

Reluctantly, Walter called the therapist.

"I'm sorry, Walter. I had no idea. You're going to have to make a decision. There is a very limited pool of people to draw on who will be sympathetic to the discipline aspect of your relationship and who are also experienced clinicians. You don't have many options here. Graham Miller is one of the best in the field. I don't believe you're doing Alex a favor by letting him control the situation this way. If he can no longer distinguish fantasy from reality, he really is going to have to be hospitalized.

"Dr. Miller is a very experienced, very competent psychiatrist with impeccable credentials. I understand that there's an unfortunate resemblance that Alex finds unnerving. We can certainly talk about that when we meet again."

Walter took off his glasses and laid them aside. He rubbed his temples tiredly as he listened intently.

"This has to be your call, Walter. From my perspective, according to what you've told me, Alex has deteriorated markedly over the last few weeks. In my opinion, it is dangerous to leave him untreated. I feel it is in his best interest for you to insist. Alex needs help now, Walter."

Steeling himself, Walter made another appointment with Dr. Miller. Alex took it hard.

"No. I won't go." Alex was adamant. Walter took a deep breath.

"This isn't a choice, Alex. You are coming with me to Dr. Miller's office. I won't let anything bad happen to you, Alex, you know that. It isn't him. You do know that."

"No." Alex closed his eyes. Walter recognized the signs. Alex was shutting down. He sighed. Alex had spent the morning vomiting up his breakfast.

"Alex. I know you're afraid. Please trust me. I'll be right there. Come on, Alex, let's go now." Walter put his arm around Alex, tugged him to his feet. Alex didn't struggle, merely swayed unsteadily. Walter led his trembling lover to the car.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Alex begged. "Please, Walter, I'm sorry, I'll be good, I promise. Don't give me back to him. Please."

Walter struggled to control his own breathing. He had never felt so cruel in his life. He knew Alex was terrified. He also knew Alex's fear was irrational. Alex needed help. It was his responsibility to make sure that Alex got it.

He belted Alex into the car. Alex stared straight ahead, almost catatonic. Walter kissed him gently. No response.

He parked directly in front of Dr. Miller's building. Undid Alex's seatbelt. Half carried, half dragged his frozen lover through the waiting room to the office door. Rang the buzzer.

Dr. Miller opened the door with his usual alacrity. He took in what was happening.

"Walter, bring Alex inside and sit him on the couch." Walter held Alex's good hand tightly. Everything about Alex screamed that he did not want to be there. Dr. Miller spoke softly.

"Alex. Alex, look at me." Alex closed his eyes. Shivered.

"Walter, I am going to ask you to trust me. I will not harm Alex. I give you my word. But I am going to be much more directive with him than I would normally be with a new patient. I know he is your lover and I know from your therapist that yours is a discipline relationship. Do I have your permission to take a firm hand with him? Or would you prefer that I call an ambulance? We can choose to hospitalize him. He is not a well man. I will ask you to make the decision."

"I won't let you discipline him," Walter said. "I will trust you to be firm with him. But I will not have you physically punish him."

"Agreed." Dr. Miller smiled inwardly at Walter's protectiveness. It told him a great deal about his relationship with Alex.

"Alex," Dr. Miller said sharply. "Alex, you need to pay attention now. Open your eyes and look at me. Now, Alex. Do you know where you are? Alex. Open your eyes. Now. You must listen to me. Open your eyes." Warily, Alex's green eyes fluttered open.

"Good. Look at me, Alex. I said, look at me. Now." Alex raised his eyes reluctantly.

"I understand I bear an unfortunate resemblance to someone who was very, very cruel to you, Alex. But I'm not him. I want you to be clear about that. Look at me, Alex. Don't just listen to me. Do I really resemble him that much? Open your eyes. Is my hair the same color?"

"Yours is lighter," Alex whispered.

"Are my eyes the same color?"

"Yes, sir, the same," Alex said softly. Dr. Miller saw Walter wince and held up his hand, palm outward, in the universal sign for 'stop.'"

"Did I ask you to address me as sir, Alex?"

"No, sir," Alex whispered.

"Alex, I want you to look at me. I am Dr. Graham Miller. I do not want you to call me sir. Answer, 'Yes, Dr. Miller.'"

"Yes, Dr. Miller."

"Very good. Where are you, Alex?"

"Fuck you," Alex said flatly.

"Alex. Answer the question. Where are you?"

"Your fucking office," Alex said sullenly.

"Alex, you are going to be punished if you keep cursing," Dr. Miller warned.

"Just try it, you motherfucking bastard," Alex said viciously.

"Stand in the corner, please," Dr. Miller said. Alex gulped.

"Walter?" he begged.

"Walter, I need you to support me here," Dr. Miller said. Walter swallowed hard.

"In the corner, Alex. Please," Walter said quietly.

"I hate you," Alex hissed.

"Corner, Alex. Now," Walter repeated. Alex backed mutinously into the corner.

"Face the wall, Alex," Dr. Miller said.

"Walter never makes me," Alex argued.

"Do as you're told, please, Alex," Dr. Miller said.

"I can't. It's not safe," Alex protested.

"What are you afraid of, Alex? Who's going to harm you? Has Walter ever swatted you without warning you first?"

"No," Alex said softly.

"Do you think Walter would allow me to swat you?"

"No," Alex said, a little hesitantly.

"You must ask Walter, if you're not sure, Alex," Dr. Miller said firmly. "Check out whether your belief is accurate."

"Walter, you wouldn't let him spank me? Would you?" Alex whispered.

"Never," Walter said reassuringly. "Any discipline you need I'll administer. No one else. Ever."

"All right. So you know it's safe to turn around. Now, please, Alex," Dr. Miller said.

"But I'm scared," Alex pleaded.

"Please, Alex. Walter, you need to insist."

"Turn around, Alex," Walter said. Reluctantly, Alex faced the wall. Dr. Miller nodded approvingly. He waited without speaking for what seemed to Walter to be a very long three minutes.

"All right, Alex. You may come out of the corner and sit down on the couch," Dr. Miller said.

Silently, Alex obeyed.

"He needs to listen, Walter. You need to push him," Dr. Miller said. "He is tougher than you think. He is very, very strong or he wouldn't have survived. And he is very, very confused. He needs your guidance and he also needs medication, at least until he rebounds a little. I want us to try something, Walter. Leave Alex here and sit in the waiting room, please. You can leave the door ajar," Dr. Miller added, seeing the flash of terror in Alex's eyes.

"Oh, no," Alex said, panicked. "Shit, Walter, stay here."

Walter looked at Dr. Miller.

"Walter, I need your cooperation. Please insist. Alex can do this."

"Easy Alex," Walter said softly. "I'll be right outside. Try to do this, OK? That's it. I'm proud of you."

Alex deteriorated immediately without Walter's presence. His speech slowed, became less coherent. He started at each sound.

"Please, sir," he whispered, his voice rough. "Why are you doing this to me? I need Walter. Please, I'll be good, I'll do anything you say. Please let me sit next to Walter."

Dr. Miller listened quietly to the increasing desperation in Alex's pleas, noted his shivering.

"All right, Walter, thank you, you can come back in. Give Alex a hug, he deserves one, he tried very hard. He was very brave." Dr. Miller watched intently as Alex leaned into Walter's embrace, reviving visibly in Walter's presence.

"I will speak with your therapist again. In both our opinions, there is no question that Alex more than meets the criteria for borderline personality disorder. The question is, how shall we proceed? Walter, you bear the brunt of his care, so you need to understand the options. There is medication that may ameliorate some of the worst symptoms. Basically, it breaks out in three categories. Antipsychotics like Haldol or Thorazine to relieve some of the dissociative symptoms. One of the SSRI drugs, Paxil or Zoloft, for the depression and angry outbursts. Depakote or lithium for the mood swings and emotional lability."

"It's too much medication," Walter protested. "I can't agree to this. I've seen drugs used as chemical restraints. I don't want that for Alex."

"Then I want to try him on Paxil. The SSRI drugs are relatively clean, with few side effects. This will also address his coexisting depression. We'll see if it helps with some of the angry outbursts. That will reduce the need to discipline him as well."

"Shouldn't Alex make this decision?" Walter asked. Dr. Miller looked at Alex.

"I'll do whatever Walter says," Alex said dully. "I just want to go home."

"It's obvious to me that he accepts you are responsible for him, Walter. And that he knows he can trust you." Dr. Miller sighed. "I want you to realize, Walter, the prognosis for BPD is not great. On the positive side, it's clear Alex is deeply attached to you, and you to him. I can see how well the caretaking aspects of this relationship seem to work. My basic approach is conservative. Although I have reservations about domestic discipline, mostly regarding the issue of consent, it's clear to me your relationship is not abusive. I don't like to tamper with a primary relationship that seems to be working. However, I agree with your therapist that you would benefit from using something harder than your hand to punish him."

"No," Walter said. "I won't do it."

"Why?"

"I didn't even want this," Walter said, frustrated. "I spank him because nothing else works. I won't beat him."

"It's perfectly legitimate to use a paddle instead of your hand. A few whacks with a belt are not a beating, Walter, anymore than a spanking is. Or even a cane. Six of the best is not abuse."

"No, damn it," Walter said tightly. "I tell you, you have no idea what he remembers. He was beaten, brutally, on a daily basis, for years. I will never, ever duplicate that. If a spanking won't do it, it won't get done. Only ever my hand. This is not negotiable. I will not compromise on this."

"Very well. Let's start with the Paxil and see how it goes." He handed Walter a sample bottle of pills.

"I'll work in tandem with your therapist on fine-tuning the medication. Walter, Alex is lucky. You take very good care of him. You need to be certain your own needs are being equally well met."

Alex sulked throughout the ride home. Walter knew he was furiously embarrassed at how scared he had appeared. Walter sighed. Talking to Alex while he was in this mood was pointless.

Reaching home, Alex practically leaped from the car. Slammed every door on his way to their bedroom. Threw himself fully clothed and shod across their bed. Refused to even look at Walter.

"I hate him. I hate you too, Walter. Why'd you let him fuck with me that way? Go away."

"Alex. He needed to test your reactions in order to make a diagnosis. Doctors do that," Walter tried to explain. Alex remained unconvinced.

Walter tried every trick he knew to settle Alex down. Alex wouldn't cuddle. Wouldn't eat. As far as the medication went, Alex was adamant. He was never going to take it. Never.

"All right, Alex," Walter said, finally angry at Alex's total lack of cooperation. "Take the medicine or don't take it. I opened the bottle for you. I'm not going to force it down your throat. I've had it." He put the uncapped the bottle of pills on the table and left the room.

He's going to leave me, Alex thought sickly. I've pushed him too far. He's going to leave me. Alex felt totally numb. He put the bottle of pills to his mouth and gulped. Gagged. Gulped again. Sat quietly and waited.

Walter took one look at the empty pill bottle on the table and blanched.

"Alex, what have you done?" he whispered. Walter knew time was not on his side. He didn't hesitate. He had ipecac in the medicine chest. He manhandled Alex up the stairs and into the bathroom. Alex resisted, but to no avail. Walter's methods were quick and dirty. A firm hand across Alex's nostrils forced his mouth open, his head back. Walter poured the ipecac down Alex's throat. As Alex vomited, unable to stop, Walter was relieved to see the pills he brought up were mostly undissolved. Alex vomited over and over. His stomach hurt, his throat was raw. Above all, he was terrified.

"Are you going to punish me?" he whispered. "Are you going to leave me?"

Alex, you scared me so badly, Walter thought. I'm going to wait until you feel better and then I'm going to kill you. Aloud he hushed Alex, quietly, reassuringly.

"Shh, Alex. It's all right. I've got you. Just rest now." Walter sat with Alex on the bathroom floor until the gagging stopped. Stroked the drenched sable hair reassuringly. It was over an hour before Alex's stomach stopped heaving. Carefully, Walter tugged Alex upright, supporting him with an arm around his waist. He helped Alex rinse out his mouth, washed his sweaty face. Leading Alex into the bedroom, Walter stripped him to his boxers, then pushed him firmly onto their bed. Silently, Alex curled up on his side, his good hand in his mouth. Walter covered him lightly. Walter sat alongside Alex without talking, rubbing his back gently. Finally, Alex subsided into uneasy sleep.

Walter placed two calls. He asked the same question of both the therapist and Dr. Miller:

"Do I punish him?"

The therapist's voice wavered.

"I would say he should be hospitalized, Walter. You have to understand that punishing a suicide attempt is not something we're trained to even consider. On the other hand, you're the expert on Alex. I am prepared to support your decision."

Graham Miller thought it through out loud.

"This is certainly upsetting. However, it was a gesture," he said. "If he wanted to be dead, he would be. You are only replying in kind. By all means, punish him."

Walter slept fitfully that night, his arm around Alex. He awoke frequently, his sleep disturbed by visions of what might have been. Totally drained, Alex slept motionlessly, occasional whimpers the only clue to his dreams.

Morning found both men tired and gray. Walter forced himself to make coffee, scramble eggs and butter toast. He brought Alex a tray, but Alex gagged even at the sight of food. He turned green, hazy eyes to Walter.

"You're going to punish me," he said soberly. "I deserve it. Please, Walter, let's get it over with."

With a deep sigh, Walter helped Alex out of bed and guided him downstairs to the living room. Walter had not thought his lover could get any paler, but he was mistaken.

"Please, Walter, I'm sorry," Alex whimpered. "I'm afraid."

Walter shook his head sorrowfully.

"Alex, I have never been so disappointed in you. This goes beyond what I can tolerate. Alex. Do not ever try that again. Suicide is not an option. Period. Full stop. If you do that to me again, I swear I will walk away from this relationship. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Walter," Alex whispered. "Please Walter, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You can strap me. I deserve it."

Slowly, Walter took off his belt. Doubled it. Ran his hand over the folded strap, tested it against his palm. Closed his eyes, trying to imagine what it would be like to bring the leather down across Alex's pale buttocks. Laid it aside.

"No," he said. "My hand, only ever my hand, Alex. But believe me, this will be the worst spanking of your life." Alex gulped.

"Yes, Walter. I know I deserve it," he said. He pushed down his boxers. Arranged himself facedown over Walter's lap. Took a shuddery breath. Walter rubbed the small of his back absently.

"Walter? You can spank me now, OK?"

"All right, Alex. This isn't going to be pleasant. We both know what this spanking is for, don't we? Suicide is never, ever an option. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Walter," Alex whispered. "No suicide attempts. Never again. I'm sorry."

Walter spanked Alex slowly, carefully, silently. Ignored the ache in his palm. Reapplied his hand over already reddened flesh, determined to make an impact on Alex's brain as well as his butt. Alex struggled for a long time to stay quiet, then, realizing Walter was determined to continue, gave up trying to control his tears and cried softly as the harsh spanking continued. It hurt, worse than any other spanking Walter had ever given him. Oh shit, it hurt. He cried piteously, the ache in his butt matching the ache in his heart.

"Please, Walter, I'm sorry. No more, Walter, no more. I'll be good, I promise. Oh please, Walter, it hurts. Please stop now. Please..." Walter rubbed Alex's back with his sore hand.

"I know, Alex. Be brave. We're not anywhere near done yet." Resignedly, he resumed the hard, implacable spanks on the sore flesh. Alex cried wordlessly. Walter was never this severe.

"Please don't spank me anymore, Walter. I'm so sore." Alex twisted miserably. Walter paused just long enough to guide Alex squarely back across his lap.

"I am going to spank you some more, Alex. Stay still and take it." Sniffling, Alex obeyed.

Walter rubbed his hand surreptitiously. Jesus, this was hard to do. He gritted his teeth, then began another meticulous circuit of smacks over the fiery buttocks. Alex cried sadly. It hurt.

"Suicide is not an option. I need to know you will never, ever try that again," Walter said, emphasizing each word with yet another stinging smack.

"I promise," Alex wailed. "I'll never do it again. No more, Walter, please, no more. Oh please, please stop."

"All over. All done. All forgiven." At the longed for words, Alex slid back to the floor on his knees, buried his head in Walter's lap and sobbed unrestrainedly.

"You said you'd leave me!" Alex wailed. Walter felt about a million years old. He stroked Alex's wet, sticky face gently.

"I was very upset, Alex. I was frightened and angry. I didn't mean it. You're mine, mine forever. I'll never leave you. Don't you leave me either, Alex."

Walter hesitated a moment.

"My mother did leave, Alex. She drove her car into a telephone pole. They had to have a closed casket. I was in Vietnam. I couldn't even go home for the funeral. I'm scared, Alex. I love you so much. I don't want to lose you."

Walter took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose hard. Wiped at his eyes. Alarmed, Alex looked, really looked, at Walter for the first time in weeks. Walter looked utterly drained. He had dark circles under his eyes and a gray veil of stubble. Alex eased himself into Walter's lap and hugged Walter hard, curling his good arm around Walter's neck. He stroked Walter's smooth scalp tenderly, kissed him fully, deeply on the mouth.

"I'm sorry, Walter, I'm so, so sorry. Don't cry, Walter, oh shit, please don't cry. You can spank me some more, Walter. You can spank me even harder," Alex said guiltily.

"I can't, Alex," Walter said ruefully. "My hand's too sore." Alex brought Walter's hand to his lips. Kissed the hot, swollen palm. Felt Walter wince. Studied Walter's hand with awed eyes.

"Wow." Alex was silent for a moment. He rubbed his butt meditatively.

"Wow," he repeated. Alex had never felt so intimately connected to Walter, even during sex. He tried confusedly to puzzle out what made this spanking so significant. It wasn't the physical pain. Alex had had the shit beaten out of him enough times to appreciate that on the cosmic scale of pain, this barely tipped the balance.

"I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry. I'm scared all the time. I'm so, so angry. Please, Walter, don't hate me. Don't leave me. I know, I know I'm being awful. Every time I try to stop I can't. Help me, Walter. I'm so scared. I just want to die, Walter. Hold me. Walter. Please, you should have let me die. I'm no good to you. I'm no good at all."

Walter closed his eyes at the despair in Alex's voice. He stroked Alex's sweaty hair sympathetically.

"I see him every time I close my eyes, Walter. I have scars all over from him. Look!" He extended his arms.

"See these?" Alex indicated the ropy scars at each wrist. "That's from when he strung me up. I thought I would die. I couldn't breathe. He left me hanging there for hours."

"He lied, Walter. Always. He said if I was good, if I tried hard, they wouldn't hurt me. But they did hurt me. It didn't matter how hard I tried. When I told him that, he laughed at me. 'Pretty Alex. Such pretty, pale skin. Shows the whip marks so nicely. Which do you prefer, Alex? Being fucked or being whipped?' Walter, he hurt me!"

Alex sobbed for what seemed like hours. Walter rocked him, his own tears mingling with Alex's. Finally, both red-eyed, heartsore men regarded each other wearily.

"Bed," Walter decided. Walter's hand was almost too sore to grip the handrail. Alex's butt was almost too sore to walk.

They stretched out side by side on their bed. Walter studied the ceiling. He didn't know if spanking Alex had been the wisest or the stupidest choice he had ever made. Lost for a moment in his own thoughts, he almost missed hearing Alex's tentative whisper.

"Walter? Am I still yours? Do you still love me?" Tenderly, he drew Alex's head to his chest.

"Mine forever. I love you so much, Alex," he said as he stroked Alex's hair. Alex sniffled.

"All yours then. I love you, Walter."

The therapist greeted Walter compassionately.

"I think I overdid it," Walter said.

Walter extended his bruised and swollen hand to the therapist. She shook her head. "Walter, you need to seek some balance here. You are too easy on Alex and too hard on yourself. You need to model self care as well. If he merits that severe a punishment again, use a paddle or your belt. Not your hand."

"No. I'm glad it hurt me. I don't ever, ever want to forget how much it hurts him. How badly he's been hurt. I spank him only because I honestly don't see any other way of getting through to him. But I never want to spank him in such a way that he feels it and I don't. He's so brave. He tries so hard. I love him so much."

The therapist watched Walter's losing battle not to cry.

"Are you sure Alex knows just how much he hurt you, Walter?" she asked. "Maybe he's the one who needs to witness these tears."

Unable to speak, Walter nodded goodbye. He returned home looking tired and sad.

It's all my fault, Alex thought regretfully, watching as Walter slumped despondently on the couch. Alex insinuated himself under Walter's arm, stretched himself on top of Walter. Kissed him. Turned to the one form of contact that never failed him. Stroked Walter's cock through his pants. Getting no response, he undid Walter's zipper and pushed aside his boxers. He fastened his mouth on Walter's velvety cock and tongued him gently. Paused a moment.

"Love you, Walter," he whispered. Walter stroked Alex's hair. Felt his cock stir as Alex continued to lick at him.

"Upstairs, Alex," Walter said. They sprawled together on the bed. Walter was hard.

"Want me to do something with this cock?" Walter asked, working Alex's jeans and underwear down. Alex arched his back helpfully. Walter grasped Alex's cock firmly, at the same time rubbing his hand carefully over Alex's tender ass. Alex moaned at the dual sensations. Coating his forefinger with lube, Walter worked it gently past the still sore buttocks, into Alex's ass. Alex was extraordinarily tight. He seemed uncomfortable.

"How's that feel, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex licked his dry lips. It hurt. It was only fair.

"I hurt you, Walter," he said. "I'm sorry. Punish me. More fingers. Punish me." Walter withdrew his hand and rolled Alex to him.

"You have to let it go now, Alex," he said. "You were spanked. You were very soundly spanked. It's over. You're forgiven. I will never, never hurt you sexually as punishment. If it doesn't feel right today, we'll do it another time. Lie down, Alex, let me take care of you." He cuddled Alex close. Alex began to cry. Walter rocked him carefully, noting how Alex's cock retreated into his sparse, dark hair.

"Shh, Alex, shh. Nothing bad's going to happen to you. I promise. I'll take care of you."

"Don't leave me, Walter," Alex begged. "I'm sorry, I'll do anything you want, please don't leave me."

"I'll never leave you," Walter said softly. He thought for a long moment. "You need to talk to someone, Alex. The Paxil will help, but medication alone is not enough."

"I'll talk to you, Walter," Alex said miserably. "I don't want to talk to anybody else. I don't trust anybody else."

Walter stroked Alex's hair soothingly.

"I'll always listen, Alex. But someone professional can get to places inside you that I simply can't reach. You need a kind of help that I can't give you, no matter how much I love you."

"Dr. Miller scares me, Walter. I can't help it. If I have to talk to someone, I'll talk to the first therapist we saw. She seemed OK." Alex sighed despondently.

"Shit, Walter, I really don't want to do this."

"I know, Alex, and I think it's very brave of you to try. I promise there'll be a very special treat for cooperating. Do you want me to go with you?"

Alex licked his lips nervously.

"No, Walter," he said with quiet dignity. "It won't work that way. I need to do this by myself."

"Can do this can do this can do this," Alex chanted under his breath, as he made yet another circuit around the therapist's building. Nerved himself up enough to park.

"Can do this can do this can do this," Alex repeated softly, as he climbed the stairs. The three-worded mantra soothed him.

"Can do this can do this can do this."

Alex entered the therapist's office tentatively. Stood motionless. The therapist took in the green eyes, cloudy with anxiety. The nervous flicker of tongue over lips that bled slightly where Alex had chewed them. The tousled black hair. The tee shirt darkened with rivulets of sweat. The tight jeans. This man was both beautiful and tremendously damaged. His very vulnerability made him all the more unstable and all the more dangerous.

"Are you afraid of me?" Alex asked the therapist in a soft, dangerous voice, drawing on a lifetime's practice in intimidation.

"Should I be?" the therapist asked.

"How the fuck should I know?" Alex was taken aback.

"How are you supposed to help people if you can't even answer a simple question?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"How do you think I'm supposed to help people, Alex?"

Alex stared at her.

"Are you making fun of me?" he asked tentatively, searching her face for signs of mockery.

"Do you feel that I'm making fun of you?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. Oh shit, I knew I couldn't do this. You're doing this on purpose to make it hard for me. Just talk to me. Shit. I'm trying here. I don't get this shit, OK? I don't know what the fuck you want me to do."

"What do you think I want you to do?"

"I don't know! Oh shit, stop asking me questions, just tell me what I need to do. I bet you don't jerk Walter around like this," Alex said resentfully.

"What do you imagine I do with Walter?"

"How the fuck should I know? Probably tell him he should get rid of a prick like me and find a nice lover like Ringo or John. Someone good like him. Who won't be any trouble. Who won't need to have his ass spanked to teach him what's right. I don't know," Alex spat angrily.

"Is that what you think?"

"I don't know! It'd make sense. Why the fuck should he be saddled with damaged goods like me? I have one fucking arm. I don't know fuck all about the shit he likes. Music. Fucking history. How the fuck am I supposed to know? I'm a good fuck. I can do anything." He laughed bitterly. "I've done everything. I was good at the other shit I did, too, but Walter won't let me have a weapon, so I can't do that anymore. Shit. I've got nothing to say. Do whatever the fuck you want to me. I'm good at pain, too."

"Tell me about pain, Alex."

Alex took a shaky breath.

"What's there to tell? I'm used to it. I'm used to getting hurt. I hate it. I hate when Walter spanks me. And that other fucking stuff...." He glared at the therapist.

"Writing lines? Having your mouth washed out with soap? Corner time?" she asked.

"Yeah. All that shit was your idea? It had to be! Walter was never that mean before. Why couldn't you just tell him to paddle me? Or whip me? I could take that. I deserve that. But this other stuff is fucking weird. Stop laughing at me!" Alex glared at the therapist.

"Am I laughing at you?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. Oh shit. I hate this. This isn't fair. I don't know what I'm supposed to do and you're not helping me at all!" Alex's voice cracked and for the first time, he looked squarely at the therapist, his beautiful eyes wide and reproachful.

"Good, Alex," she praised him. "Do you know that that's the first time you've really looked at me?"

"Yeah, so?" Alex said.

"That's very good, Alex. How does it feel, to look at me when you're talking to me?"

"Oh, shit, I don't know," Alex moaned, dropping his head to his hands. "What the fuck am I doing here?" His confusion was total and touching. For the first time, there was no bravado, no facade. Just Alex. Clueless. Confused, bewildered, and yet, not willing to give up. The therapist noted that not once had Alex attempted to leave. For the first time, she glimpsed what Walter treasured in Alex. The persistence. The aching determination to understand in the face of an almost total lack of context. The legacy of fear. The barest beginning of trust.

"I'll see you next week, Alex," she said, standing up.

"Next week? I have to do this again next week? Shit!" Alex shook his head as if to clear it.

"What did you expect, Alex?" the therapist asked calmly.

"All right," Alex muttered. "I'll see you next week." He walked slowly out, closing the door quietly behind him.

It was a start.

Walter was pleased with Alex's progress. He had gone on his own to see the therapist. He took the Paxil Walter doled out. Let Walter coach him through the therapist's body awareness exercises with only token protests.

"Come on Alex," Walter said, jingling his car keys. "I promised you a very special treat if you tried to cooperate with your therapy. I'd say you're keeping up your end of the deal. Let's take a ride." Walter had already familiarized himself with the Home Expo showroom. He ushered Alex over to the row of luxury bathtubs.

"What would you think about us getting one of these, Alex?" Walter grinned.

Alex didn't want to spoil Walter's fun, but something about the array of tubs was making Alex very, very uneasy. He felt his throat tighten.

"Walter? Take me home, OK? I don't like this. I don't like this at all." Alex chewed his lip, his eyes clouding over. "Please, Walter..."

Walter concealed his disappointment. Obviously this was not going to be the treat that he'd hoped it would be.

"OK, Alex, OK. Hang on, we're going. I'm right here, Alex, you're safe." He took Alex's good elbow and moving steadily, guided him to the parking lot.

"Breathe, Alex. Deep breath now, that's it, easy. You're OK now."

" Walter, I'm sorry. It's just... " Alex fell silent.

"I'm not upset, Alex. I'm very glad you told me you felt bad. See, you can do it. You can pay attention to your feelings. You did good."

Alex's unhappy confusion lifted a little at Walter's praise. He smiled tentatively. Accepted the hug Walter gave him; let Walter tousle his hair affectionately. Seemed to brighten a bit at the gentle attention.

Walter waited until after dinner, then tugged Alex into his lap.

"Talk," Walter said simply.

"You don't need to hear this, Walter," Alex said. Walter rubbed his back gently.

"Tell me, Alex," he coaxed. "You don't have to do this alone." Alex sighed.

"They called us bath toys. That's all I remember, really." Alex hesitated, then began to whimper quietly.

"No, this isn't fun. I don't like this, I don't like this at all." His eyes were wide and very far away.

Walter felt sick. Poor, poor Alex. Was there no limit to the depravity of those Consortium bastards? Goddamn perverts! Alex cringed, not knowing how to interpret Walter's obvious fury.

"Easy, Alex," Walter soothed, forcing a calm he didn't feel. Alex was frightened enough.

"It's good that you told me, Alex. You're very, very brave. You did well today. You remembered what we practiced. I'm proud of you."

"Really?" Alex asked. For an answer, Walter kissed him gently. Alex leaned into Walter.

"Love you," he whispered, returning the kiss with interest.

"So much for my great plan," Walter said wryly. The therapist shook her head.

"How did that make you feel?"

"It's all so hopeless. Every time I think I've seen the worst, there's something even uglier. What they did to him..."

"I hear how discouraged you are, Walter." He nodded.

"And yet, this is the first time Alex has been able to tell you before he panicked that something was wrong. Can you acknowledge what an enormous step forward that is for him?'' Walter thought about it.

"It is progress, isn't it?" he said slowly. "I guess that's almost worth giving up my fantasy of soaking happily with him in a warm tub."

"It may be possible to ease him into it, if that's your goal. It may take us some time to figure out what would make it less threatening for him, but it's not an unrealistic fantasy, Walter. We can talk about some ways to reduce Alex's anxiety."

"It's not that important," Walter said with a shrug.

"Walter, your needs and wants are just as important as Alex's." Walter nodded doubtfully.

"How does it make you feel to hear me say that, Walter?"

"I don't mind catering to Alex. He's entitled to extra consideration," Walter said.

"Walter, you need to work with Alex's strengths, not indulge his weaknesses. Both he and your relationship will be stronger for it."

Walter took a deep breath.

"What they did to him..." Walter said sadly. The therapist shook her head.

"Stay in the present, Walter. That's the only time we have. Alex needs you, but he's not an invalid. Don't treat him like one. Remember, Walter, this is a process."

"I understand," Walter said. "Thank you. See you next week."

Dinner was long over. Alex had disappeared upstairs. John and Walter sat quietly over their coffee in the kitchen.

"Alex looks good, Walter," John said. Walter nodded.

"Better than he did. He's never going to be one hundred percent, John, I realize that now."

John closed his eyes.

"Walter. I'm sorry. I know you love him," he said softly.

Walter sighed.

"What can you do, John?" he said philosophically. "When you love someone, you take him as you find him. For better or worse. The medication's helped. He's even talking to the therapist. Still, Alex is Alex." Both men were silent. Walter looked soberly at John.

"If anything were to happen to me, would you take care of him? He can't make it on his own."

John thought for a long moment, then shook his head sadly.

No.

"I'm sorry, Walter. Melvin and I will look out for him. But what you do for him? He's too strong for me. I'm sorry. Shit." It was the one and only time Walter had ever heard John curse.

John had barely pulled out of the driveway when a door slammed viciously upstairs. Walter winced as Alex took the stairs at breakneck speed, his feet loud against the wooden treads.

"Fuck you, Walter, I hate you," Alex swore savagely, squaring off in front of Walter in full-blown panic mode.

"Fuck you, Walter," Alex repeated. "You bastard. Motherfucker." Walter took Alex's good hand, pulled Alex hard against him. Alex's heart was racing.

"Stop cursing, Alex," Walter said firmly. "Right now. One more word and I'll spank you." Where is this coming from, he wondered? Alex struggled to escape, but Walter simply held him close. Finally, Alex was still. He closed his eyes.

"I heard you talking to John," he whispered. Walter winced again.

"What did I tell you about eavesdropping, Alex?" he asked. Alex shivered.

"No one wants me," Alex whispered. " I'm scared, Walter. I need you. I love you."

"I love you, Alex. I want you. I'm not going anywhere. Alex, are you crying?" Alex sniffled, shaking his head. Walter cuddled him, rubbing his back gently.

"I'm here, Alex. You're the one who tried to check out, not me." Alex tried to catch his breath.

"Are you still angry at me? Are you going to leave me? Is that why you want John to take me?"

"No, Alex," Walter said softly. "That's not it at all. It's just a precaution, Alex. I just want some backup. I'm fine. Nothing's going to happen to me. I love you, Alex."

"I love you too, Walter. Please, don't leave me alone. No one else wants me." Alex's hand crept to his mouth. Walter tugged it free and kissed Alex gently, reassuringly.

"I get so scared, Walter," Alex whispered. "I feel so empty. Is that ever going to change?"

"I wish I could promise you it would, Alex. It may. You're doing the right things: therapy, medication. All that helps." Walter smiled encouragingly at Alex. Alex eyed Walter desperately. He knew of only one thing that could soothe the anxiety he felt.

"Please, Walter." Alex tugged Walter towards the stairs. Walter let himself be led to their bedroom.

"I need this, Walter," Alex begged, turning himself on his stomach and shrugging out of his pants and boxers.

"Please, Walter, fuck me. I need you to fuck me." Walter rubbed his hand along Alex's back, up under his tee shirt. Gently turned Alex over. He knew how important this connection was to Alex.

"Kiss me first," Walter said softly, rubbing Alex's lips with his own. Alex closed his eyes, opened his mouth obediently. Walter kissed him deeply and thoroughly. Felt Alex begin to relax as their breath mingled, their tongues explored each other's mouths. Felt some of the desperation ebb from Alex's tense body. Took a moment to undress himself.

Carefully, Walter eased Alex out of his shirt. Traced his hand carefully, lovingly, over Alex's taut shoulders, his flat belly. Massaged his tight nipples into little peaks. Sucked them gently, savoring Alex's moans. Stroked Alex's hardening cock with a practiced hand. Only then did he allow Alex to roll onto his stomach again.

Walter worked the heel of his hand into the small of Alex's back, judging the extent of Alex's panic from the degree of tension in the knotted muscles. From long experience, Walter knew that only sex ever held Alex's terror of abandonment at bay. Coating his fingers with lube, Walter gently loosened Alex's tight ass. Not until Alex was soft and open did he slick his cock with gel and lean slowly into Alex, taking him smoothly and quietly. Alex moaned with pleasure. Walter took Alex's cock in his slick hand and stroked it in rhythm with his thrusts. It took neither man long to come.

Making himself comfortable on his side, Walter drewAlex next to him. Cradled Alex's head on his arm, used his other hand to stroke Alex's cheeks. They were tracked with tears.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Walter worried. Alex shook his head no.

"I'm just scared, Walter," Alex whispered. "I love you so much. I know I'm a lot of trouble. I don't want you to leave me."

"I love you too, Alex. I'll never leave you. You're a lot of work, I'll agree, but you're not any trouble. You're worth it. I'm all yours," Walter said.

"I'm all yours, too," Alex said softly. "I hope you want me."

"Forever, Alex," Walter answered. He snuggled Alex close.

"You're all mine, Alex. Forever."

*****FIN*****

* * *

Title: The Bath  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series; follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare, Summertime, TLC, The Visit, Game Over and Therapy  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek and the Lone Gunmen were created by Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders; Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her generous spirit, her advice and her encouragement.  
Summary: Alex fulfills Walter's fantasy.  
Warnings: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Ursula, who unites the sacred and the profane. This story was written in honor of her birthday, September 7, 2001.

* * *

The Bath  
Elizabeth Marshall

Walter imagined wistfully how it would feel to lean back in warm water and savor the feel of Alex's body pressed against his own. The dream of warm water and wet bodies faded into the reality of cool sheets and a warm mouth working on his cock. Languorously he stroked Alex's silky black hair, enjoying the softness. Alex had taken Walter deep in his mouth, his tongue and palate enveloping the swollen head of his cock while his lips worked over the rigid shaft. Walter thought wryly that only a man as well loved as he was could afford a fantasy life fueled exclusively by a dream of bathing with his lover in a warm bathtub.

Walter had decided that the pleasure of a bathtub large enough to allow him and Alex to bathe together was worth a sizeable investment. And an investment it had turned out to be, financially as well as emotionally. An engineer decreed that the floor beneath the prospective tub needed reinforcement to safely support the filled tub's weight. The entire bathroom had to be reconfigured. New fixtures had to be purchased. But the tub was finally installed in all its deep, inviting glory.

Now came the hard part. Getting Alex into it.

Alex had listened to the therapist's logic and to Walter's reassuring murmurs. They both had no doubt he would get used to this tub. They both agreed he would even come to enjoy it.

Well shit, what did they know, Alex thought despondently? As things stood now, he was planning on taking showers for the rest of his fucking life. Because that thing terrified him.

Alex's first glimpse of the gleaming tub had rocketed him back to his days as a pretty toy the Consortium's more decadent elite enjoyed playing with while bathing. The flashback had left him vomiting on the cool tiled floor.

They just didn't get it. The memories were old and clouded. He didn't even know exactly who had been there, what they had done. But the idea of being trapped in one of those...

Trapped? Where had that come from?

Alex sighed. Introspection was not his strong suit.

And yet Alex had to admit, he was feeling better than he would have thought possible. Those few months after the well-manicured man had died had been miserable. Alex shuddered when he remembered the blackness that had engulfed him. The utter despair he had felt, alternating with furious days when it seemed every other word he uttered was a curse and all he did was anger Walter. The spankings he had simultaneously dreaded and provoked. He hated even the memory of those months.

Medication and therapy had helped ameliorate the worst of those feelings. But Alex still felt angry and anxious when Walter was away from him. The ever-present fear, that he was not worthy to be loved, might have subsided from foreground to background. But it was still there. And Walter and the therapist seemed determined to make him think about it and talk about it. And breathe through it.

Walter had never pushed him like this before. Alex blamed the therapist for that. She encouraged Walter to hold Alex responsible for more and more aspects of their life together. He hated this. It was too fucking hard.

Alex hated Walter's calm confidence that he would eventually be able to do it. Fuck Walter's "can do" attitude.

Just last night, for instance, Walter had ruined a perfectly good weekend by suggesting that a day of hard labor in the garden would make Alex sore enough that the tub would look inviting. The fuck it would. Alex stood in the backyard, looking sullenly at the fence overgrown with brambles and weeds.

For most of Alex's life he had been subject to the whims and desires of others. Years of harsh consequences had almost eliminated any desire he had for autonomy. Now Walter was no longer content that Alex simply follow their rules and sleep in his bed. There were chores. Not just easy ones with clear parameters. Hard ones, like this. How the fuck did he know what "do something about the border near the fence" was supposed to mean?

Of course, Alex thought rubbing his butt ruefully, he supposed he could have tried asking Walter nicely. The long lecture he'd gotten the night before on the folly of throwing gardening books and gardening tools had not been pleasant. Shit. He seemed to recall Walter had indicated he would be only too glad to remind Alex again today what a civil conversation involved. So Alex guessed that asking Walter what the fuck he wanted him to do and why the fuck he should do it would not be one of the best fucking ideas he'd ever had.

"Go on, Alex," Walter coaxed, looking over at his sulking lover. Alex's mutinous face left no doubt how Alex felt about the day's plan.

"Get started. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish."

Alex looked longingly at the deck chairs on the patio. Why the fuck did Walter get to sit and read his fucking newspaper while he grubbed around in the dirt? He glared at Walter. Walter glared back. Shit, thought Alex. Did I say that out loud? I couldn't have. I didn't. I know I didn't.

"I can't spank you for thinking evil thoughts, Alex," Walter said grimly. "But I will spank you for shirking your share of the household obligations. There's a very nice list on the refrigerator, Alex. I water the garden. You pull the weeds. I wouldn't mind having another fifty copies of it to post in conspicuous places, either."

Alex gulped. He hated writing lines like poison. It was just one more of the fiendish tortures Walter and the therapist had agreed on.

With what he hoped was a heartrending pout, Alex headed out to the far reaches of the garden. Walter rolled his eyes and returned to his reading.

Alex took a firm grip on the offending green vines snaking their way under the fence and over the bushes and began to yank them from the soil. As he worked, the sun rose. Sweating, Alex stripped off his shirt, socks and jeans. There were no neighbors back here to object. It was a lot cooler working in only boxers and sneakers.

Meanwhile, the Gunmen's battered van pulled up in front of the house. Melvin and Ringo had been making the rounds. Walter shook hands with Melvin, wondered out loud if it was too early for lunch and a beer. The three men decided it really wasn't.

"Where's Alex?" Ringo asked.

"Cleaning out some thickets down by the back fence. Why don't you go get him?

"Hey, hey, dude," Ringo called, loping across the garden. He skidded to a sudden stop. He turned his head from side to side, squinted through his thick glasses.

"Um, Alex? What the fuck are you doing?"

"Pulling the fucking weeds out. What the fuck do you think?" Alex snapped.

"Does Walter know what you're doing?" Ringo asked. Alex glared at him. The geek was getting on his already frayed nerves.

"Not exactly. Cut the fucking bullshit, Ringo. What do you want?"

"Shit, Alex, you're standing half-naked in a mess of poison ivy. You are going to feel so bad, man. Come out of there. We have to find Walter." The former farm boy rolled his eyes heavenward. "Aw, man, you must really have pissed somebody up there off. That stuff is evil."

Walter and Melvin surveyed the pile of vines. Walter shook his head.

"I should have checked back here first, before I sent him out to clean it up. He's not a country boy. Poor Alex, this is not going to be pleasant," Walter said unhappily.

"Make him take a cool shower with soap. Maybe it won't be so bad if it's his first exposure," Melvin suggested. Then, looking more closely at the enormous volume of poison ivy Alex had tugged free of the fence, he added another suggestion.

"Just put him out of his misery now." Walter smiled grimly. Melvin had no idea how tempting that was. I should ask Melvin to put me out of my misery while we're at it, he thought. This is going to be hell.

Six hours later the rash began to erupt over Alex's hand and face. Arm. Chest. Stomach. Legs. Ankles. Feet. Within a short time Alex was thoroughly miserable. Sick. Itchy. Hot. Itchy. Nauseous. Itchy.

Walter straightened the sheets. Puffed the pillows. Dabbed calamine lotion. Offered Alex another swallow of ginger ale. Nothing helped. Alex twisted miserably.

"I itch," he whimpered, trying not to whine. Walter looked at his miserable lover.

"When did you have the last dose of Benadryl, Alex? Eleven?"" Alex nodded.

"Itches," he said. He looked absolutely wretched.

Walter made a decision. He began to run the tub full of lukewarm water, added four handfuls of oatmeal Aveeno bath.

"Come on, Alex," he coaxed, half-lifting, half dragging Alex to his feet. Alex was shaky, sweaty and exhausted. His eyes widened unhappily when he realized what Walter was planning.

"No, please," he moaned. Walter shook him gently.

"Alex, trust me, it'll make you feel better."

"I'm scared," he whispered. Walter shook his head. There was barely an inch of unblemished skin on Alex's body. He needed some relief and he needed it now.

"This isn't negotiable, Alex. In you go." Alex flinched at Walter's brusque order, but was too uncomfortable and dispirited to argue. He just wanted the itching to stop. Gently, Walter stripped off Alex's boxers and propelled him into the tub.

Blessed relief. The cool water lapped gently against his raw, aching, rashy limbs. Supported his tired, sore muscles.

Walter watched with growing pleasure as Alex's frightened, frozen expression softened.

"Shit, Walter, that feels good," Alex sighed. "Oh shit, this feels so fucking unbelievably good. Oh shit, this feels good."

Walter rolled his eyes at Alex's language. They were going to have to work on that. Right now, he was going to take advantage of an opportunity just too good to pass up. Walter slipped out of his clothes, into the tub and gathered Alex gently in his arms.

"Ah," Walter sighed. "I've been dreaming about this for so long."

"This isn't very romantic, Walter," Alex said dolefully.

Walter wiped a smudge of oatmeal from Alex's nose.

"Oh yes it is," Walter said softly. "You snuggled against me in our bathtub. I love it, Alex. Rash or no rash. Oatmeal or no oatmeal."

Alex moaned as Walter gently groped him.

"No," he protested. Walter laughed.

"I'll stop," he offered.

"No!" Alex said desperately. "Please Walter, I'll never be able to sleep if you don't finish." Walter continued to caress what was probably the only part of Alex's body not covered by the rash. Alex leaned his head back against Walter's shoulder, arched his back and came hard in his hand.

Carefully, Walter eased them out of the tub. Took the softest, oldest towel they owned and gently patted Alex dry. The combination of soothing bath and sex had left Alex calm and sleepy. Walter sat him in the armchair while he remade the bed, then tucked him into the fresh sheets.

"I love you, Walter," Alex mumbled, his eyes closing.

"I love you, Alex."

*****FIN*****

* * *

Title: Interlude  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series: follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare, Summertime, TLC, The Visit, Endgame, Therapy, and The Bath.  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek, Melvin Frohike, John Byers and Ringo Langly are the creations of Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders, Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: With sincere thanks to my beta, Lorelei, for caring and connection. I appreciate your support and reassurance.  
Summary: Alex and Melvin enjoy an evening at the opera.  
WARNINGS: Adult readers only. M/m sex, spanking. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Interlude  
Elizabeth Marshall

Ten o'clock Saturday evening. The five men lounged comfortably at the battle-scarred round table in the rear of their favorite Italian restaurant, their meal over. They polished off the remains of their last carafe of the house red.

"Opera season," Melvin announced happily. "I have tickets for La Traviata for Tuesday. Can I tempt you, Walter?" Walter shook his head.

"You know I'm not much of a Verdi enthusiast, Melvin. I saw last season's production and that'll do me for the next two years. If you want to see Tosca or La Boheme, any Puccini, count me in."

"What about you, John?" Melvin asked.

"Sorry, Melvin. The Symphony now and then is more my speed."

"If I don't know the drummer, I don't go," Ringo said. Melvin rolled his eyes.

"You're all missing a great treat," he said. "Your loss. Let's order dessert. Everyone having coffee?"

No one noticed Alex's scowl. Walter did think Alex was unusually quiet, and the fact that Alex didn't order his usual slab of chocolate cake did seem odd. Oh well. Alex was moody; that was a fact of life. Walter would talk to him later.

"That was fun," Walter said as he got ready for bed. He took off his watch and laid it neatly in the tray atop his dresser, alongside his wallet and a handful of spare change. Alex shrugged.

"Leave me home next time," he said sulkily. "No one cares If I'm there or not, anyway."

"Alex! What makes you say that?" Walter asked in surprise, turning to face Alex. Alex looked decidedly unhappy.

"Nothing," Alex said sullenly. Walter ground his teeth in frustration.

"You can just find yourself a comfortable corner and stand there until you feel like talking, Alex," Walter said. "Or you can bring me the hairbrush."

Some choice. Alex handed Walter the heavy wooden hairbrush. Walter seated himself on their bed and with a small sigh, Alex stretched out and buried his head in Walter's lap. Walter brushed Alex's hair gently, carefully, in long strokes from crown to nape. Patiently waited until Alex's scowl relaxed into the softer expression he sought. Alex positively loved being brushed. Walter rubbed Alex's back gently with his other hand.

"Tell me," Walter said. He continued brushing, waiting for Alex to talk. It took a few minutes, but eventually Walter's quiet persistence paid off. Alex spoke softly, unsure of himself.

"Well, Melvin asked you if you wanted to go to his fucking opera. And he asked John. And Ringo said no. But he didn't ask me. No one ever asks me if I want to do anything special," Alex sulked. Walter laughed.

"Is that all? Don't be silly, Alex, Melvin just assumed you wouldn't be interested. You saw how Ringo felt about it. We don't expect you--" He paused. Took a deep breath. Looked, really looked, at his unhappy lover. Alex's green eyes were murky and opaque. His feelings were really, really hurt.

"Alex, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blow you off that way. Come here, Alex, I didn't understand. I'm sorry." He put the hairbrush aside and taking Alex in his arms, drew Alex's head to his shoulder. Hugged Alex tightly to his chest.

"I'm really sorry. That wasn't very nice of me, was it?" Alex's head shook vehemently. Walter regretted his smile. There was nothing funny in Alex's hurt feelings. It was just that the extraordinary notion that the former Consortium assassin might yearn for an invitation to the opera had never occurred to him, or to Melvin, nor, he was sure, to anyone else.

"Alex, I'm sure Melvin will take you with him. I'll call him right now, OK? Jesus, Alex, I really, truly didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Neither did Melvin. We just never thought you'd be interested."

"It sounds like fun," Alex whispered. "I've never been to an opera. Maybe I'm just a stupid prick who won't get it, but..."

"Shh, Alex," Walter soothed, stroking the shining sable hair with a comforting hand. "I didn't mean to imply that. I just didn't think. I'm really, really sorry, Alex. Come, let me call Melvin and then I promise I'll think of some way to make it up to you."

"Of course, I'd be delighted to take him, Walter. I never even thought to ask. I'm used to Ringo, whose idea of music bears no resemblance to music I understand except in name."

"I think he felt a little hurt he wasn't asked," Walter warned. There was a momentary pause.

"I see. Let me talk to him a minute, Walter. Thanks." Melvin waited for Alex's tentative greeting.

"Alex! I'd enjoy your company. Let me take you to dinner first. We really didn't get a chance to talk tonight. Sound good to you?"

"Thanks, Melvin, " Alex said awkwardly. His eyes reverted to the clear green Walter loved. "Pick me up here?"

Walter made a mental note not to underestimate Alex again. It was hardly Alex's fault that his Consortium masters had deliberately kept him ignorant of anything outside the limited skills they required. He would have to spend a little time introducing Alex to the arts. Obviously, Alex was eager to learn. Once again, Walter was struck by Alex's dogged persistence, in the absence of any context for growth and health.

Over the next three days, Walter had ample opportunity to observe the habits that had contributed to Alex's notoriety as an assassin. Walter eyed the mounting balance on his American Express card and winced. Obviously frugality was not part of Alex's Consortium training. Determined to do this thing right, Alex acquired a CD of La Traviata, the libretto in both Italian and English translation, a series of general guides to the opera, a videotape of a public television special on Verdi, a membership in the Opera Guild, and a seating plan for the theater.

Walter resigned himself to listening to Verdi echo through the house. He supposed he should be grateful that Melvin shared his dislike for Wagner. Walter shivered to think what it would be like to live with an Alex intent on absorbing the Ring cycle.

None of his preparations soothed Alex. By Tuesday he was as tightly wound as Walter had ever seen him. Anxiety made Alex sharp and difficult. He paced, he criticized, he sulked and he cursed. Walter's patience withered under the barrage.

"Settle down, Alex," Walter warned, as Alex unleashed yet another tirade of curses. "You're looking at a spanking if you don't chill out, right now."

"Fuck you, Walter," said Alex with practiced defiance. Walter sighed as he seized Alex's arm and upended him over his lap.

"You have this coming," Walter said softly, understanding his lover's serpentine psychology. It was abundantly clear to him that Alex was courting this spanking. Alex was nervous about the evening ahead, and Alex and nerves were a bad combination. Walter wanted the spanking to hurt just enough that Alex would feel held, but not enough that he would feel his underlying plea for comfort and reassurance had gone unmet. It was a fine line.

"You don't curse at me, Alex," Walter said firmly. "No matter if you are angry, upset or just worried. You don't curse at me. It hurts my feelings, it puts distance between us, and it doesn't really make you feel better either. Is that clear?"

Alex nodded, this time silently cursing himself. He should have known Walter wouldn't understand. But he was scared...

"I do understand," Walter said. Alex jerked violently away. Only Walter's firm grip prevented his escape. Had he spoken aloud?

"Easy, Alex," Walter soothed him, stroking his skittish lover's back gently. "Of course I understand how scared you are. It'll be all right, I promise. I'm going to spank you, and then I'm taking you up to bed. Shh, Alex, I know you're scared. Shh..."

Alex shivered.

"I guess I couldn't just say I'm sorry?" he offered tentatively. Walter continued to rub his back gently.

"You could, Alex. Would that do it for you?" Alex shook his head slowly.

"I deserve to be spanked," he said sadly. "But Walter? I'm scared."

"I know. I'll take good care of you, you know that. Come on, let's take your pants and boxers down now. Easy, Alex, I've got you." Walter made sure Alex was positioned securely with his damaged arm out of harm's way, and then slipped Alex's garments to his knees.

Alex sniffled despondently. This evening was threatening enough, without provoking Walter to the point of spanking him. Shit. This had been a spectacularly lousy idea.

Walter applied his hand sharply to Alex's fine white buttocks, careful to distribute his swats evenly. He kept the spanking light, wanting only to keep Alex centered, not really punish him. Walter knew Alex's cursing was reflexive; Alex's reaction to stress. They would work on it. This spanking was less about punishment than about reassurance. Reassurance that Alex belonged, that he was Walter's, that he was safe and that he was loved. Alex had just begun to cry in earnest when Walter ceased spanking him and gathered him gently into his arms.

"Shh, Alex," he soothed. "Come on, into bed now. I think you need a little more comfort than I can offer down here. " Walter propelled his teary lover up the stairs and into their bedroom. Finished stripping him and shoved him gently into their bed. Walter undressed quickly and stretching himself full length alongside Alex, drew the covers over both of them.

Alex trembled as Walter cupped his ass and gently massaged his flaming bottom, his large hand distributing the burning heat, transforming the ache into soothing warmth. As Walter continued to stroke him gently, Alex turned to press himself against Walter.

"Fuck me," Alex begged. "Please Walter, I need you inside me. I need to feel you. Please, Walter, please." Walter kissed Alex fully, deeply, felt himself hardening in response to Alex's need. Alex arched his back, grinding his pelvis against Walter. Walter stretched over to the night table, his fingers seeking the lube resting next to the lamp. He squeezed a generous gob into his hand and carefully lubricating his index and middle fingers began to make gentle circles around Alex's tight anus. Waited until the ring of muscle softened, then carefully slipped his fingers inside. Worked them deeper, feeling Alex's muscles contract reflexively as he found the tender spots along the wall of the tight channel. Reached for the small, harder nub of flesh deep within. Alex panted desperately, his hips plunging.

"Please, please, Walter, I need you so bad. Fuck me, fuck me now," he begged. Pressing Alex's knees back to his chest, Walter withdrew his hand and coated his cock with lube. Leaning forward, he let his body weight slide him inside his lover. Alex moaned with pleasure.

"Yes, oh god Walter, yes," he breathed, his head back, his eyes closing. Walter fucked Alex deeply and carefully, alert to the tone of his groaning. He wanted this to be good for Alex. Alex's cock was rigid as Walter took it in his hand, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusts. Alex strained upwards, his cock jerking spasmodically, his hips thrashing. Walter grinned and let himself come deep within Alex's hot, contracting body.

"Ah, shit, that was so good," Alex moaned. "Oh Walter, I needed that so bad. Thank you thank you thank you." Walter quieted Alex's babbling with a firm kiss.

"Shh," he soothed. "I love you, Alex, I'll always be here for you. Shh, I love you, it's all right." Alex's eyes were suddenly filled with tears.

"Hold me," he begged. Walter hugged him close.

"I have you, Alex, I have you. I'll keep you safe," Walter said. Alex's eyes closed sleepily, trustingly.

Alex awakened with a start. Relaxed as he heard the familiar sounds of Walter in the kitchen downstairs. Checked the clock nervously. Plenty of time. He shaved carefully, started the shower running. Let the warm water run over his tight shoulders. Washed his hair. Toweled himself dry briskly.

Dressed in fresh jeans and black tee, but still barefoot, he padded downstairs. Walter eyed him contemplatively. Goddamnit, he looked good. Walter grinned evilly, aware of the kind of attention Alex invariably attracted. Melvin was about to discover firsthand what an evening out with Alex Krycek was like.

The doorbell chimed. Alex cast a quick, anxious glance at Walter, then rose gracefully to open the door.

"Evening, Alex, Walter," Melvin said cheerfully. Took a long look at Alex. Damn, the man was pretty. Alex shrugged into his leather jacket, dragged on clean socks and toed into his boots.

"Have a good time," Walter said. "Alex, be good." Alex ducked his head embarrassedly.

"Right, Walter. Let's get out of here, Melvin," Alex said with a smirk. "Before Walter checks to make sure my underwear is clean." Melvin snorted.

"I'll bring him back in one piece, Walter," Melvin said, but the smile he gave Walter was kind. He knew Walter worried about Alex. He knew Walter had had ample reason to.

Alex looked around the small Argentinean restaurant appreciatively. Melvin grinned.

"Walter still cutting back on the beef, Alex?" he asked. Alex nodded.

"We're having meat only twice a week now. That's it. And burgers at lunchtime count." He eyed the platter of steak the waiter was bearing to the adjacent table.

"That what you have a taste for, Alex?" Melvin asked.

"Jesus, Melvin, if Walter saw the size of that, I'd be eating fish and tofu for the next month. You'd better not tell him." Alex licked his lips hungrily.

"How about I don't tell Walter on you, and you deep-six Ringo's bottle of ketchup the next time you come by the bunker? Before I have to watch him drown another of my steaks. Deal?"

"Deal." Alex grimaced at the thought of ketchup on prime beef.

Melvin laughed. Alex took a deep breath and tried to relax. Killing a contact was a familiar experience. This sort of casual socializing was not.

Melvin guided the conversation to the opera they were seeing and was pleasantly surprised to discover Alex had done his homework. Alex had absorbed enough information about La Traviata to carry on a coherent conversation. No one would have suspected that he had never actually seen a live opera. Alex was almost apologetic about how much preparation he had done.

"Whatever made you do that?" Melvin asked curiously. Alex shrugged.

"I learned a long time ago not to leave things to chance. Failing wasn't an option the old men allowed, Melvin," Alex said softly. He winced, remembering. "You got it right the first time, or you paid. And the better you knew your target, the better your chances of not screwing up." Melvin studied Alex's face for a long moment.

"This isn't a test, Alex," he said gently. "I know your feelings were hurt when I didn't invite you right away. I'm sorry. I'm used to Ringo, and he hates the opera. I just didn't think. You don't have to prove anything to me, Alex. I'm very glad you agreed to come." Alex looked down.

"Thanks, Melvin," he said softly. "I just didn't want you to be ashamed of me." Melvin shook his head.

"Never, Alex. You try harder than anyone I've ever known." They sat in companionable silence, thinking their own thoughts, as they finished the last of their coffee.

As he ushered Alex out of the restaurant, Melvin observed how many pairs of eyes, both male and female, cut in Alex's direction. Walking with Alex, Melvin decided, was disconcertingly similar to driving a conspicuous sports car. Sleek, dark and sexy, Alex was hard not to notice.

If Melvin hadn't known the theater was new to Alex, he would never have guessed from Alex's demeanor. Alex's surefooted knowledge of the Kennedy Center had everything to do with skilled map reading and a well-trained memory and nothing to do with previous experience, but he blended flawlessly with the regulars.

Melvin noticed that he himself was getting more than his usual share of looks and even friendly nods from the gay crowd. He winced. Obviously, people assumed a man of his age and appearance rated a companion like Alex because he brought something else, money or status, to the party.

Alex ignored the looks. He had long since gotten used to them. At least now, the assumptions underlying them were false. He was no one's pretty boy, no one's lapdog. He gritted his teeth. Every once in a while, he really, truly missed the weapons Walter no longer permitted him.

Both men were happy to be safely ensconced in their seats. Alex studied the program carefully, like a good student, names, dates and production notes clicking into place. Melvin perused the playbill more casually, with the assurance of the connoisseur. He had loved and followed the opera all his adult life. Sitting here, he felt at home. He looked over the theater in a proprietary manner, making sure it was being maintained to its usual high standard.

From the first note, Alex's attention was riveted on the stage. Melvin thought he had never seen anyone drink in a performance in that way. Alex's expression reflected his utter absorption. The intermission seemed to come as a complete shock to him.

"Do you want to stretch a little, Alex?" Melvin suggested gently, shepherding him into the lobby. Alex studied the crowd carefully. His eye was drawn by two men on the perimeter of the crowd. Something about them seemed off.

"I'm going to walk around a little, Melvin," Alex said softly. He needed to see for himself what was going on.

Carefully, Alex made his way across the room. He stood back discreetly, watching the drama unfold. The older man was angry. His voice, though soft, was threatening. His companion looked frightened.

"You little prick, you listen to me. I own you. If I see you looking at anyone else again, you'll be out on your ass so fast it'll make your head spin. You understand me, you cheap fuck? I own your ass." The speaker stalked away, his handsome face contorted with rage. Alex watched as the younger man drew a shaky breath.

"Hey," Alex said softly. The young man started reflexively.

"Why do you let him treat you that way? Leave him. You got money?" The young man shook his head.

"You from around here?" Another negative headshake. At the shift in angle Alex saw the faint blue residue of a bruise on the man's face. The slight traces of post adolescent acne.

"Fuck." Alex went through his pockets, withdrew a wad. "That's three hundred bucks. Don't shove it all up your nose, asshole. Go home."

"He'll kill me." The whispered response was full of fear. Alex wondered how old the poor bastard was. He looked barely old enough to drink.

"No, he won't," Alex said grimly. "I'll talk to him. Did he give you that?" Alex gestured towards his expensive wristwatch. The young man gave a quick, apprehensive nod.

"Give it to me." The man hesitated a moment.

"It'll only cause trouble, trust me. I'll give it back to him. He won't come after you." The cool certainty in Alex' voice reassured the younger man.

"Here's your fucking watch," Alex said softly, stepping in front of the older man. "Look for the kid and you're dead. Trust me." This time, the promise was not meant to reassure.

The man looked at Alex, a frisson of fear shooting through him, directly to his groin. Damn, that bad boy look was hot. Maybe... He stroked his thumb suggestively over Alex's palm as he took the proffered watch.

"Don't even think about it," Alex hissed. The man heard the menace in his voice. Met Alex's eyes for the briefest of seconds. They were black with loathing.

A hint of danger might be a thrill; a warning like this was anything but. Chastened, the man hastily backed away.

Melvin watched the exchange from across the room. Nothing to tell Walter about, he thought nervously. At least he hoped not. Alex's face was unreadable as he rejoined Melvin. Neither man spoke as they returned to their seats.

Violetta's soaring voice sliced through Alex. The live voice moved him in a way the recorded voice had not prepared him for. Combined with the adrenaline rush from his recent encounter, it was overwhelming. Alex shivered involuntarily.

Melvin saw Alex's slight movement. He knew deep within himself that Alex needed comfort. He just didn't know how best to offer it. To his surprise, Alex shifted fractionally in his seat, so that their shoulders touched.

Melvin leaned into Alex tentatively. Felt rather than heard Alex sigh. Was heartened to feel Alex relax against him.

Alex stayed close to Melvin until the last note faded.

It had been a stellar performance. The audience applauded enthusiastically through several curtain calls.

"You liked it," Melvin said to Alex. It wasn't even a question. Alex smiled broadly as he stood up.

"Thank you, Melvin, that was just..." Alex licked his lips, searching for words to describe his feelings. "The best. Fucking unbelievably good." He shook his head.

"I know, Alex," Melvin said. "I remember my first opera. I'm really glad I was the one to take you to yours."

"How did it go?" Walter asked, welcoming them home.

"I cannot believe the looks he gets," Melvin said. "I don't know how you take him any place, Walter."

"I don't know why Melvin thinks that," Alex protested. "I was good. The whole time." He sounded hurt.

Walter raised his eyebrows. Melvin shook his head slowly. He hadn't meant Alex to take him seriously.

"I was joking, Alex. He's right, Walter, he was good. More than good. He was a pleasure to spend an evening with. I'll take you again, Alex. Anytime."

"Thank you, Melvin. It was great. Poor Violetta. Alfredo is a fucking asshole."

Alex's was not the most sophisticated of plot analyses, but it was totally unaffected, and it made both Walter and Melvin smile. Alex hummed softly under his breath.

Walter recognized the aria. Questa donna conoscete...

"Act two, scene two," Alex supplied helpfully. "Alfredo denounces Violetta and throws his gambling winnings at her feet." He smiled proudly.

Melvin and Walter exchanged glances.

"You've ruined him," Walter said mournfully to Melvin. "I'm choosing your next opera, Alex. Puccini. Tosca, Madama Butterfly, La Boheme. You'll love Puccini, Alex."

"Nothing wrong with Verdi, Walter," said Melvin, winking at Alex.

Walter groaned. Alex studied the two men, not sure he understood the joke precisely, but feeling the warm glow of belonging to a select society of aficionados.

Handshakes were exchanged all around. Melvin left for the bunker, and Walter and Alex retired to bed. Uncharacteristically, Alex stayed to his side of the mattress, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Tell me," Walter said softly.

"What? Tell you what?" Alex said irritatedly. How the fuck did Walter do that? He always knew. Shit. Alex felt his stomach knot uncomfortably.

Walter watched Alex's face carefully. Alex was hiding something.

"Come here, Alex," Walter said. "Tell me what's wrong."

"No, Walter, no!" Alex protested, scooting farther away. Shit. This was not how this day was supposed to end.

"Shh, Alex," Walter soothed. "Come to me, now. There's nothing to be afraid of, Alex. You know I'll never hurt you," he added gently, watching Alex gulp nervously.

"I don't need to be spanked, Walter," Alex said defensively.

"Did I say you did, Alex?" Walter asked. "I just want you to come here. Now." He patted the bed next to him.

"Cuddle, Alex. That's all." Reluctantly, Alex rolled into Walter's embrace, still tense.

"Easy, Alex, I got you." Walter rubbed Alex's back in soothing circles.

"No one should put up with being treated that way." Alex said softly. " No one."

Walter continued his gentle massage, not interrupting.

"I knew the other prick wasn't dangerous. Fuck him, he just liked lording it over the kid. I barely had to threaten him. He folded like that." Alex snapped his fingers.

"How much money did you give the kid, Alex?" Walter asked quietly. Alex shrugged.

"I had three hundred bucks on me," he said.

Walter sighed ruefully. Another one of Alex's non-deductible charitable contributions. Oh well. It could have been worse.

"Walter?" Alex asked anxiously. "Are you going to spank me?"

"Why do you think I would, Alex?" Walter asked curiously.

"For doing something dangerous. For wasting money. For getting involved in something that was none of my business," Alex said softly.

"Was it dangerous, Alex?" Walter asked. Alex shook his head.

"No. I told you, he was just a fucking bully. Bastard," Alex said.

"I trust your judgement, Alex. You were out in the world a long time," Walter said.

Alex sighed with relief. Endangering himself had earned him his worst spankings.

"And I'm certainly not going to punish you for showing compassion. Were you the only person who saw what happened, do you think?" Walter asked.

"I don't know," Alex shrugged. "Probably not."

"And did anyone else even try to help?"

Alex shook his head. No.

"People don't," Alex said wearily.

"No one ever helped you, did they?" Walter asked softly.

Alex looked away.

"I didn't think so. Come here now, I've got you. You're safe." Gently, Walter turned Alex's face so that their eyes met.

"You tried, Alex. Whether it did any good or not is out of your hands. Let it go." Walter tucked Alex's lean body against him. Kissed Alex hard. Felt Alex soften into his embrace.

"I love you, Walter," Alex whispered.

"I love you too, Alex."

*****FIN*****

* * *

Title: Tidings of Comfort and Joy  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series: follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare, Summertime, TLC, The Visit, Endgame, Therapy, The Bath and Interlude.  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner, Alex Krycek and the Lone Gunmen are the creations of Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders, Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: Thank you, Samantha, for maintaining the wonderful playground that is Persuaders  
WARNINGS: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking. If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei, beta, first reader and friend

* * *

Tidings of Comfort and Joy  
Elizabeth Marshall

Whack!

Alex gritted his teeth, determined not to cry out.

Walter brought his hand down, hard, across buttocks that were already shaded pink. Alex struggled to pull away, but Walter had no intention of letting him go. Walter's hand fell again and yet again, recovering familiar territory, deepening rose to crimson. Alex sniffled despite himself.

"You do not curse at me, Alex! No matter if you're angry or anything else. You do not curse at me. It's hurtful, it doesn't solve anything, and I hate it." Walter ran his swollen palm surreptitiously over his lips. Ouch.

"Alex. Do. You. Understand. Me." Each word was accompanied by yet another sharp smack.

"Yes! Yes! I'm sorry, Walter, I'm sorry! Please! I won't do it again! I'm sorry!"

Walter rested his aching palm against the back of Alex's thigh for a moment, then helped Alex straighten up.

"All done, Alex. Shh... It's all over now."

For a brief minute, Alex leaned his head against Walter's chest. Felt Walter's heart thumping, its rhythm matching that of his own. He allowed Walter to hug him, softening into the embrace.

The moment of reconciliation was all too short. Alex stiffened abruptly. Stood, scowling, and eased his boxers and jeans up. Glared at Walter.

Walter sighed to himself. He had hoped this spanking might improve Alex's attitude. Obviously it had been a vain hope.

Alex's fingers trembled ever so slightly as he buckled his belt. His jaw clenched convulsively.

"Are we done now, Walter?" he asked, his tone just a hairsbreadth away from outright rudeness.

"One more tantrum, just one, Alex," Walter warned, his own voice icy. "And you won't sit down until after New Year's. Do you understand me?"

Walter's coldness infuriated Alex.

"Yes," Alex hissed, backing away from Walter. "You're not going to have to spank me again. And Walter? Did I mention I hate you, too?" Alex took the stairs two at a time and slammed the bathroom door hard behind him.

Walter sighed. The Christmas season held no charms for Alex; that much was obvious. Alex was as unstable and explosive as nitroglycerine.

There was a rap at the outside kitchen door. Ringo greeted Walter with a grin.

"Alex ready? You want to come too?"

"No thanks, Ringo. I have a lot to finish up for tonight and besides, Alex and I can use a break from each other. He's upstairs, sulking in the bathroom. Good luck getting him out."

Walter massaged his aching hand unconsciously. Ringo gulped at the sight of Walter's reddened palm. Jesus, poor Alex. I'm glad we got new shocks in the van, he thought to himself.

"You OK, Alex?" Ringo knocked tentatively at the bathroom door.

Alex took a gulp of water and with a grimace, spat into the sink.

"Yeah, Ringo. Give me a sec." Alex splashed his face, rubbed his butt gently. Shit. Walter hadn't fooled around.

"This is so fucking embarrassing," Alex groaned, emerging.

"Forget it, Alex, we know he spanks you. Shit, at least you're not grounded. Come on, man, let's get out of here. You have got to see the tacky Santas on this one house we pass..." Still talking, Ringo was out the door, Alex at his heels.

Ringo's enthusiasm was ridiculous, Alex thought sourly. Didn't Ringo know how fucking fake the whole thing was?

"What's wrong, Alex?" Ringo asked, seeing Alex's moue of disgust.

"It doesn't mean anything to me, Ringo. The whole fucking thing. I don't have any fucking good memories of Mommy baking Christmas cookies, or of Granny's fucking Christmas dinner, or of Daddy driving to some fucking farm to cut some fucking tree. Shit. I hate it, Ringo. All of it."

Ringo was quiet a minute. Alex closed his eyes; took a deep breath. He hadn't meant to bring Ringo down. Fuck holiday cheer.

"Forget it, Ringo. I'm a fucking asshole. Let's just get pizza. Maybe we can waste some quarters while we're there," Alex said. Ringo shared his weakness for video arcades. Wincing, Alex settled uncomfortably into the front seat of the Gunmen's beat-up old van.

Ringo pulled onto the road. He looked straight ahead through the windshield as he spoke.

"Alex? My uncle used to grow a stand of trees to sell at Christmas. I hated cutting the fucking things. Stacking them on the truck. Fucking cold, fucking wind. I hate the smell of pine. But hey, Melvin and John get off on having a real tree."

Ringo punched Alex's arm gently.

"It's OK, man. We don't all love the same shit. We just have to put up with it. So, what did you get Walter?"

Alex swallowed hard.

"Scotch. It's his favorite."

"Sounds good."

"Yeah. And Ringo...thanks."

It was good that Alex was going to be out of the house for a few hours, Walter thought to himself. He could get a hell of a lot more accomplished without his sullen presence. Walter wondered what Alex's past experience of Christmas had been, to leave him so completely unmoved by all the holiday festivity. Alex had coldly turned away Walter's questions. It was clearly not a subject he intended to discuss.

Walter knew full well that the holiday season brought sad as well as happy memories. His paternal grandmother had always "made Christmas" for the family. It was her traditions of baking, cooking, decorating and gift wrapping Walter followed.

His poor mother had never mastered the season. Walter sighed, remembering years that his mother, in what he now recognized as her manic phase, had turned the house into a chaotic jumble of light and color. A surfeit of food, plans and presents. Even worse, the years that her depression had left her sad and silent. Gifts lay unwrapped, supper went uncooked, and curtains gaped open to the early evening dark. Then his grandmother would arrive, and his world would once again be set right.

Walter thought with love and admiration of his paternal grandmother, who had cooperated with his father to give him a stable, happy childhood, despite his quixotic mother.

It was an illness, Walter thought. Manic depression. We just didn't know it. It was neither her fault nor ours. The thought comforted him. He had tried so hard to be a good boy. It was a relief to understand that her illness, and not his behavior, had been the cause of her suffering.

Walter was struck by a sudden, sharp insight into Alex's recent hair-trigger temper. It's the medication, Walter thought. He's not taking enough. I need to talk to the therapist about increasing the dosage.

But not tonight. Not on Christmas Eve.

Walter drew on years of experience in compartmentalizing and turned his thoughts to the evening meal. Resolutely, Walter began to complete the two dishes he associated most strongly with his grandmother.

Cassoulet. An organized two day ritual of peeling, slicing, sauteing, simmering. Each step leading to the next, a satisfying rhythm to the whole. Walter remembered picking over the white beans for his grandmother, looking for stones. Sampling the fragrant broth out of the cream ceramic cup she used for measuring.

Buche Noel. Walter grinned. Even Alex's bad humor would have to give way before the traditional rolled chocolate confection. Walter had made this his specialty throughout his marriage with Sharon. No matter what other desserts they had served, he had always made his trademark Buche Noel. He flattered himself that their guests had looked forward to it.

John and Melvin arrived in the late afternoon. Without the need for discussion, they understood that Alex had been worse than useless in helping Walter prepare. The three men worked easily, naturally together, washing wineglasses, making the salad, setting the table and putting out the appetizers.

It was just dusk when Ringo and Alex returned.

Alex was considerably more cheerful. Ringo was good for Alex, Walter thought to himself. The two younger men were equally matched in their sharp intelligence, their disregard for convention, their genuine, quirky kindness. As for their suspiciousness, try as he might, Ringo would never achieve Alex's level of paranoia.

Alex sighed. He hated the hopeful statement on Walter's face. Sure, the fucking food looked good. But Christmas Eve was still Christmas Eve. Meaningless. He sighed again. He was still on the outside, looking in.

Although Alex had to admit, that chocolate cake was tempting. He recognized it as a Buche Noel, although he'd never tasted one before. Tentatively, Alex extended one finger to steal a taste of the swirled chocolate icing.

"Alex, wait for after dinner," Walter chided him.

Alex drew back sharply, his quick movement unbalancing the heavy platter and sending it and the chocolate roll crashing to the floor.

Walter looked in dismay at the ruin of chocolate cake and shattered porcelain. He took a deep breath. He had spent hours on that Buche Noel.

"It's all right, Alex." Walter could almost feel the waves of panic radiating off his stony-faced lover. "I know it wasn't on purpose."

"Fuck you, you bastard," Alex yelped. "I hate you, I hate your fucking Buche--"

"Enough, Alex. I'm warning you," Walter interjected, his patience at the breaking point.

"I hate your fucking shrimp--" Alex reached blindly for the platter of shrimp. Slammed it against the wall. Forty dollars worth of shrimp dripped down the wall, along with cracked platter, lemon wedges and Walter's homemade cocktail sauce.

"Oh, shit!" The Gunmen heaved collective sighs.

Infuriated, Alex seized a third platter. Swung it, hard. Tender Brie, well-ripened Camembert, imported Edam, sesame crackers, all slid across the carpet.

"Put it down, Alex," Walter said warningly. "Now."

"Fuck you, you bastard! Don't touch me!"

The third platter crashed against the wall. Alex turned and fled upstairs.

*****

"Goddamn him!" Walter started after Alex.

"No, Walter," John said quietly, stepping in front of Walter.

Walter glared at him. John met his gaze without flinching, his usually mild eyes hard.

"Walter. Think. Spanking Alex on Christmas Eve is not something you want to do."

Walter loomed angrily over John. John didn't move.

"Please, Walter. Don't do it. Alex hasn't got any good Christmas memories."

As frustrated as he was, Walter saw John's point. Walter took a deep breath, shook his head as if to clear it. John noted the gesture with relief.

"Take a walk with Melvin, Walter. Curse your stars. Curse the bastards who made Alex what he is. Get it out of your system."

Not trusting himself to speak, Walter nodded. Melvin moved silently, sympathetically to Walter's side as he walked towards the door.

Upstairs was black. Cautiously, John reached for the light switch at the end of the hall. Peered into Walter and Alex's shadowy bedroom. Alex sprawled forlornly on the bed.

"Alex? May I come in?"

Alex shrugged. John seated himself awkwardly alongside Alex.

"John?" Alex asked tentatively. "John, where's Walter?"

"He went out for a walk with Melvin, Alex. He'll be back soon."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked softly.

John's chest contracted sympathetically at the fear implicit in Alex's question.

"Yes, Alex, I'm sure," John said soothingly.

"Shit, John," Alex sighed. "Oh shit. I wish I were somebody, anybody else right now. "

"It's going to be all right, Alex. Can you sit up? I'll bring you some water."

Alex pushed himself up against the pillows. His good arm curled protectively around his torso in so blatant an attempt at self-comfort that John winced.

"I'll be right back, Alex." John waited until the bathroom tap ran cold, then filled the glass alongside the sink and returned to Alex.

Alex sipped gratefully.

"Sorry, John. I'm a stupid fuck."

John sighed.

"Didn't you ever have a Christmas that was even a little bit special, Alex?"

Alex shrugged.

"Luis Cardinale liked Christmas. He'd buy these pastries, sweet, creamy Italian shit. He'd play music. Luis..." Abruptly Alex recalled what the Gunmen knew of Luis.

"Oh shit, John, I'm a pathetic bastard." Alex groaned. Oh yeah, great fucking Christmas memories.

"Alex, you're a survivor of brutal abuse, prostitution, rape, torture. You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's the people in our own government, who were supposed to protect us, who should apologize. None of what the Consortium did to you was your fault." John smoothed his hand over his beard.

"Alex, we only want you to enjoy the holiday. Find some comfort in the company of your friends. Let Walter love you."

"John, Alex, I'm sorry," Walter said from the doorway. His face was reddened from the wind, his breathing slightly roughened. He had obviously been walking fast.

"Nothing to apologize for, Walter," John said, standing up. "I'll see you downstairs."

Alex buried his face in the pillows.

"We're OK now, Alex. I'm not angry anymore." Walter took John's place on the bed.

"Come back downstairs, Alex," he coaxed. "Ringo rescued the shrimp and the cheese. Dinner's almost ready. We can still have a nice evening."

"I fucked up big time, Walter," Alex said sadly, his body turned away from Walter, his voice muffled by his pillow.

"Next year will be better, Alex," Walter said softly.

"Next year? Next year?" Alex said hesitantly, confusedly.

"Yes, next year. Alex, this is only our first Christmas. We'll have many, many more. Alex!"

Alex had turned abruptly to Walter and with a sob that sounded torn from his very center, buried his face against Walter's chest.

"Shh, shh, what's this?" Walter soothed Alex gently, stroking the dark hair back from Alex's forehead. An exploratory finger found Alex's cheeks wet with tears.

"I'm sorry, Walter. I never did Christmas before. I feel so left out, and I hate it. I'm sorry I was such a prick. I love you, Walter, I love you so much. I've screwed everything up."

"Alex, I love you. Having you in my life makes this the finest Christmas I've ever had. " Cupping Alex's chin gently in his palm, Walter tipped his face up so that their eyes met. Alex's were wet and dark with misery.

Walter kissed him gently, teased his mouth open with a careful, gentle tongue. Waited until Alex's eyes closed and his lips softened before deepening and intensifying the kiss. He felt Alex's back arch, his body press closer. Walter ran his hand up the side of Alex's face, combed his fingers through the dark hair he loved.

"Alex. You need to share these feelings with me and with your therapist. You may need more medicine when you're this stressed."

"Don't you get it, Walter?" Alex said savagely. "Fuck the medication. I'm never going to be a normal person. I'm always going to be screwed. No one's ever going pay for what those bastards did to me. Nothing will ever make up for that."

Alex shivered. Walter hugged him close.

"We'll talk about this another time, Alex, not on Christmas Eve. Come downstairs now, Alex. Everyone's worried about you."

"I'm sorry, Walter. I'll be good," Alex promised, his voice small and sad. Walter stroked Alex's hair gently.

"I love you, Alex. Everything's going to be OK," Walter promised in turn. Alex followed him downstairs.

Ringo had managed to rinse off the shrimp and pile them in edible, if inelegant, fashion in a bowl. The rounds of cheese had also been trimmed clean and rearranged alongside fresh crackers. Alex looked at the food, then looked shamefacedly at his friends. Saw concern, not condemnation, in their eyes.

"Come on, let's help Walter get dinner on the table," Melvin said, smoothing over the awkward moment.

To Alex's amazement, the evening really was all right. No one pushed him to talk, but everyone made sure he was included in the general conversation. Walter's lovingly crafted cassoulet was a huge success. Many plates of food and glasses of wine later, the five men finally pushed back their chairs.

"Let's take a break before dessert," Walter suggested. "Open the presents."

"All right!" whooped Ringo. Alex closed his eyes. His friend's innocence scared him.

Leaving the table uncleared for the moment, they trouped into the living room.

Alex swallowed hard. Despite Alex's refusal to help shop and wrap, Walter had included his name on all the gift tags. From Alex and Walter.

For Melvin, there was a scholarly book on Verdi and a new CD by his favorite diva. Melvin smiled happily.

For John, there was a handmade fountain pen, in deference to his Luddite tendencies. John stroked his new toy lovingly, while Melvin and Ringo laughed uproariously.

For Ringo, whose threadbare wardrobe worried Walter, there were two colorful flannel shirts.

From the Gunmen, there was an enormous box of imported chocolates for Alex, and a case of good wine for Walter.

Uncertainly, Alex handed Walter his bottle of Scotch, his eyes begging for approval. Alex's sigh of relief at Walter's smile was audible and prompted wry smiles all around.

Walter gave Alex a warm woolen robe and fleece lined slippers of softest leather. Alex, whose habit was to be either naked or in street clothes, stroked them tentatively. He supposed he could get used to them, if Walter wanted him to. Although truthfully, he would have preferred more chocolate.

Walter chuckled to himself. Sometimes Alex's face was very revealing.

John started the coffee brewing. The Buche Noel had proved unsalvageable, but there was still Walter's pecan streusel pumpkin pie, fruitcake and marzipan in the shape of little potatoes.

Alex's earlier tension had evaporated, replaced by a profound exhaustion. Even before the Gunmen left, he was nodding off on the couch. The Gunmen exchanged handshakes and holiday wishes with Walter before heading back to the bunker, laden with presents and leftovers.

Walter puttered around, discarding used wrapping paper, putting dishes in the dishwasher and wiping down surfaces, until Alex began to stir.

"Come on now, Alex, upstairs," Walter coaxed his sleepy lover. Wearily, Alex made his way to their bedroom, Walter following closely.

Their room was dark and warm. Alex fell into bed, too tired to even undress. Walter undid Alex's belt, unzipped his jeans and tugged them off along with his boxers. Rolled off Alex's socks. Unbuttoned his cuffs, eased him out of his shirt. Unstrapped his prosthesis. Alex lay passive and silent.

Walter stripped and stretched full length on the bed, spooning Alex's unresisting body close against him. He ran an experimental hand lightly over Alex's groin; felt his lover's cock harden. His own cock responded eagerly to Alex's arousal.

Straddling Alex, Walter stroked his pale, expressionless face with the utmost delicacy. Kissed Alex gently.

Alex moaned. Opened his mouth to Walter's warm tongue. Drew up his legs, offering himself. Walter reached into the night table drawer for the lube.

Walter explored Alex's buttocks with a careful hand. Although they were still slightly flushed, they were no longer warm. He parted the taut cheeks, coated his fingers with lube and gently, knowingly massaged the tight pucker of muscle within. Alex relaxed trustfully into the familiar sensations as Walter pressed patiently inward.

Walter slicked his cock with gel and elevating Alex's legs, leaned into Alex until his cock was fully sheathed. Alex's head dropped limply back and he groaned deep in his throat.

"Good?" Walter asked, pausing to be sure.

"Oh, yeah," Alex answered huskily. "Oh, yeah."

Walter and Alex moved with the easy grace of longtime lovers. Walter stroked Alex's cock in rhythm with his thrusts, his thumb caressing the tender head. Alex stiffened and shuddered, his cum spilling over Walter's fingers, onto his belly. Alex's ass tightened reflexively and Walter moaned at the pressure, his own cum spurting deep inside his lover. Walter withdrew slowly, careful to keep his weight off Alex.

Rolling onto his back, Walter tugged Alex to him, kissing him deeply and appreciatively. Alex snuggled into Walter's embrace, his green eyes soft and contented.

"I love you, Walter," Alex whispered.

"I love you, Alex. Merry Christmas."

*****FIN*****

 

* * *

 

Title: Strays  
Author: Elizabeth Marshall  
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Series: follows Take Me, Kisses Sweeter than Wine, A Safe Speed, Healing, Mercy, Nightmare, Summertime, TLC, The Visit, Endgame, Therapy, The Bath, Interlude and Tidings of Comfort and Joy  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: The characters Walter Skinner and Alex Krycek are the creations of Chris Carter.  
Archive: Yes to Persuaders, Down In the Basement; others please ask first.  
Feedback: Yes, please to   
Thanks: I am grateful to my beta, Lorelei, for her insight, honesty, patience and caring heart.  
Summary: Walter must make difficult choices as bad memories overwhelm Alex.  
WARNINGS: Adult readers only. M/m sex, discipline, spanking. Memories of abuse. ANIMAL CRUELTY AND ANIMAL DEATH If the idea of a discipline relationship between two consenting adult males offends you, so will this story.  
Dedication: For Lorelei

* * *

Strays  
Elizabeth Marshall

"Alex!" Walter roared.

Alex reluctantly put down the comics and the bag of M&M's he was working his way through and sauntered into the living room.

"Why are you yelling, Walter?" he asked.

Walter glared at him.

"What did I tell you about watching the dog when she's out of her crate, Alex?" Walter said, trying to keep his irritation in check.

"I was watching her," Alex protested. He had been. Sort of. He whistled softly, and the young Irish Setter came eagerly to him. Alex petted her gently.

"Alex. If you want to do something else, that's fine, but put her back in her crate first."

"Cara doesn't like being in that cage, Walter." Alex toyed with the dog's silky ears.

"Crate, Alex. It's not a cage to her; it's a den. It's her home. That's why she instinctively keeps it clean. Believe me, Alex, I've had many, many dogs. This is the kindest and best way to housebreak one. But we need to be consistent. Look at this!" Walter pointed to a puddle on the hardwood floor.

Alex gulped. Felt a visceral flash of shame, as if he were the one responsible for the accident.

"You should punish her, Walter," Alex said tensely.

Walter shook his head, trying very hard to be patient. Alex had never housebroken a dog before. As well, Alex had no experience of kindness, outside of what Walter had provided him. The Consortium's training methods had been harsh. No wonder Alex seemed unable to believe that anything but punishment would be efficacious.

"Alex, I've explained this to you before. If we keep her in her crate except when she's outside, or when we can supervise her inside, she'll be housebroken in no time. But every time you let her have an accident, you make it that much harder for her to learn."

"I'm sorry about the mess," Alex said nervously, his eyes down. Then, harshly, "She's a bad girl. Bad." The dog looked at him uncertainly and backed away.

"Alex," Walter said sharply. "I've told you, over and over, don't scold her after the fact. She doesn't know what you're angry about. Put her in her crate and clean up that puddle." Alex grimaced. His stomach hurt.

"Here, Cara," Alex called. She wagged her tail, but didn't move.

Why wouldn't the damn dog come to him? All right, he'd yelled at her. Big fucking deal! The lightning flash of anger he felt caught Alex by surprise. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral.

"Come here, pretty baby," Walter coaxed, snapping his fingers. She came eagerly. Walter ran his hand over the young setter's shiny red coat, still puppy soft. In a few short months it would be glossy and sleek.

Sullenly, Alex got the paper towels and cleanser. He hated this. Somehow it felt as if someone should be punished for this mess.

"There you go," Walter crooned, as he led the dog to her crate and gently pushed her in. "You're a pretty baby. You're a very, very pretty baby."

"I'm dropping my car off at the shop, Alex. Pick me up downtown at three, OK? And Alex...be there at three. I find waiting an hour for you to show up very frustrating."

"Yes, Walter," Alex nodded distractedly.

"Alex, I'm serious. Be on time," Walter said sharply. "Consider yourself warned."

Alex's hand strayed reflexively to his butt.

The floor clean and Walter gone, Alex and the dog set out for the wooded part of the park. Alex needed the walk to settle himself down. Housebreaking a dog was the pits. Being cautioned by Walter in that cool, sharp tone bothered Alex intensely.

Alex lost himself in the pleasure of movement. The young setter was inexhaustible. Alex enjoyed her light hearted frisking, the way her plumy tail waved gaily over her back as she wound her way through the foliage.

They stayed out a long time, both man and dog glorying in the freedom the park offered. Seeing the sun dropping lower in the sky, Alex reluctantly steered them towards home. The setter danced at his heels.

Shit. Alex glanced guiltily at the clock as they reentered the living room. He was going to be late, and Walter was going to skin him alive. Where had that dog got to?

"Get over here!" Alex's irritated tone, a sharp change from his earlier good cheer, spooked the setter. She turned to face him, her tail twitching tentatively. He swallowed hard, tried to soften his voice.

"Come on, Cara, I just want to put you in your crate!"

Walter had made clear that he wasn't to leave her out of the crate unsupervised. Walter had made clear that he wasn't to be late.

Damn, he should have put her in earlier. Shit, he was going to be late.

Alex reached for the dog, just as she slipped under the dining room table.

He lost his balance and stumbled, whacking his hip hard against the table's edge.

"Shit!" The dog exited from the other side of the table.

She was making him later still. How the fuck was he going to catch her?

Alex began to back her into the corner of the room.

There, almost got you.

She tried to slip past his bad side. He tried ineffectively to snare her with his prosthetic hand. His own clumsiness angered him.

"Damn you, bitch! " Frightened, the young dog froze.

Alex reached for her collar with his good hand.

The dog cringed away from his touch.

"Don't be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you."

He seized her collar, tried to pull her towards the crate. She balked, confused. Pulled free of his grip.

"Stop it," Alex said harshly. The dog whined, pressing her belly to the floor.

The room was suddenly too hot.

"Stop whining," Alex snapped irritably.

Cara titled her head, her bewilderment plain. Alex felt suddenly nauseous.

You're a bastard, Krycek, you know that, he reproached himself.

You little bastard.

Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about.

Alex felt funny. Little white dots were popping all around the corners of his eyes, distracting him. His stomach hurt.

The dog whined again. Alex felt worse.

"Shit! Shut up! I'll give you something to cry about!"

The dog rolled over on her back, desperate to appease the raging man. She whimpered, but didn't try to escape.

It's too fucking hot in here.

Nonononononononononono

Too scared to move.

Come here now, brat, or you'll be sorry.

Alex made a grab for the dog. She sprang to her feet and backed away, her tail tucked between her legs.

The acrid odor of urine filled the air.

Did you piss yourself? You're in trouble now, boy.

Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

You fucking little bastard! I'll teach you!

Nonononononononononono

The dog barked sharply, frantically,

Alex shook his head dazedly. Looked at the cowering dog watching him tensely.

"Here, Cara," he said softly.

Ohmygod. Oh shit. I didn't hit her, I know I didn't, I couldn't have.

Oh god, I came so close!

Another wave of nausea took Alex. He doubled over, retching, vomit covering the floor before him. Gasped, lightheaded, for breath.

Cold. So cold.

Nonononononononononono

I've got to get out of here. I've got to get out of here before I hurt her.

Reaching into his jacket, Alex took his keys from his pocket. He tossed them on the floor before the dog, backed out of the house and pulled the door closed behind him. He sighed with relief as he heard the lock snap shut. Cara was safe.

"I'm sorry, Cara," Alex whispered. "I fucked up everything. I'm so sorry."

The dog barked furiously.

"Shut up!" Alex slammed his hand into the heavy door, hard. Felt warm blood spill over his knuckles.

He couldn't get back inside even if he wanted to.

Cara was safe.

He licked his bleeding hand. Shit, that hurt. Shit, shit, shit. How the fuck would he ever explain this? Walter was going to kill him.

Bad boy. Stop that. Don't cry.

Alex wormed his way under his car, the fear that tight spaces inspired eclipsed by an older terror. The need to hide erasing all else. The pavement was cold, hard and uncomfortable.

Bad boy. Stop that. Don't cry.

Walter paid the cab and, thoroughly annoyed, let himself into their house. Paused, his hand still on the doorknob. The living room stank of vomit and urine. The dog raced anxiously to and fro, shoes, the contents of the garbage can and an unidentifiable object that might once have been a hairbrush strewn in her wake.

What the hell happened here, Walter asked himself, his hand dropping automatically to where his gun would have been. Where was Alex? Why was the dog loose?

"Come here, pretty baby, that's it, come to me," Walter crooned. Wagging her tail happily, she obeyed. Walter scratched her chest gently. He ran his hands over her, found no signs of damage.

What could possibly have happened? The pools of urine and vomit gave clues, but no answers.

"Alex!" Walter called. No reply. He's got to be here, Walter thought. Those are his keys. He absentmindedly retrieved them from the floor. He gave the dog a treat, put her in her crate and searched his way methodically through the house.

There was no sign of Alex. Walter checked their bedroom, looked at the empty bed. He hoped against hope that Alex was not hiding underneath it. With a sinking heart, Walter knelt on the floor and raised the edge of the bedspread. No one there.

Where the hell was Alex if he wasn't in the house? Alarmed, Walter looked out the window. Sighed with relief. Alex's car was still in the driveway.

Walter did a double take. There was something under the car.

No, not something. Someone. Alex. Dear God.

Walter flew down the stairs and out the door. Dropped to the concrete and peered under the car. Alex was chanting hoarsely.

"Bad boy. Stop that. Don't cry."

The green eyes that met Walter's showed no sign of recognition. Alex was as far away as Walter had ever seen him. It had been a long time since Walter had seen that kind of terror in Alex's eyes. Walter would just as happily never have seen that expression again.

"Bad boy. Stop that. Don't cry."

"Alex? Come here, Alex, easy now, come to me," Walter said softly. Alex shook his head, fearfully, desperately. No.

Walter forced himself to breathe deeply, calmly. One of them had to stay in control or they were both lost.

"Come on, Alex," Walter coaxed. "Nothing's so bad we can't work it out." He extended his hand slowly towards Alex.

Alex spat at him. The gob of saliva caught Walter on his cheek.

Walter took a deep breath.

"Alex, come out here. Now," Walter ordered in his sharpest, most authoritative voice. Was momentarily relieved when Alex blinked once, then obeyed. He smiled as Alex emerged. Alex's next words eliminated any hope he had felt.

"Get rid of that fucking bitch, Walter. I hate her."

"Get rid of...Alex, do you mean our dog?" Walter asked, completely taken aback.

"I hate her," Alex said implacably.

"Alex, what happened?" Walter asked, watching Alex's expression carefully.

"She's a filthy bitch and I hate her," Alex shrugged. His eyes were dark, the widened pupils barely rimmed in green. The black centers showed no emotion at all.

"That's quite enough, Alex. We're going back in the house, " Walter said sharply. "Come with me quietly if you know what's good for you."

Listlessly, Alex obeyed.

I'm cold, I'm so cold. Help me, Walter.

Walter entered the kitchen, his thoughts a blur.

It's not that I didn't know Alex was capable of being cruel, he thought. He was an assassin; that's not exactly a humanitarian calling. But he loved that dog. What the hell happened here?

"I'm getting the dog out of here tonight," Walter said.

Alex nodded, accepting Walter's decision without protest. He made no attempt to pet the dog he had loved. He didn't even glance towards her crate. To all appearances, Alex was indifferent to her departure.

Walter was still reeling, at a loss to understand what was going on with Alex, when Alex unwittingly drove the last nail into his coffin.

"Want to fuck me now, Walter?" Alex offered, his hand scrabbling at his zipper. Walter's jaw clenched.

"Find a corner in our bedroom, Alex. Don't move from there until I tell you that you can." Alex's heart sank even lower at Walter's icy tone. He walked slowly up the stairs.

Walter placed a call.

"Lone Gunmen," Ringo answered the phone.

"It's Walter. I need you to bring the van over. I want you to take my dog back to the bunker with you."

"Be there in twenty, man," Ringo said, not asking for an explanation. Walter let the dog out of her crate and sat alongside her on the floor. He petted her sadly as he waited for the blond man to arrive.

"Shit!" Ringo looked around the disheveled living room in dismay. "What the fuck?"

"I need you to hang onto the dog for a few days, Ringo," Walter said. "Just until I can make some arrangements. I bought her from a responsible, reputable breeder. I signed a contract agreeing that if ever I could no longer keep her, I would send her back. God, Ringo, I never imagined that day would come. I've never given up a dog in my life. But I can't trust Alex around her any more."

"What happened, Walter?" Ringo asked tentatively, scratching the dog behind her ears. "She's such a pretty little thing. Shit, Walter, can't you give them another chance?"

"You're a good friend to Alex, Ringo. I know you hate for him to lose her. So do I. But this gal is bringing out something in Alex that scares me. Jesus, Ringo, I found the dog running loose, the house a shambles and him locked outside, hiding under the goddamn car!" Walter's voice trailed off. He forced himself to continue. "She's pretty and she's well bred. Her breeder's not going to have any trouble finding her a new home. And Ringo? Don't help Alex look for her. I mean it. If he should ask you, say no. I'm going to tell him I warned you. "

Alex was staring into space when Walter returned to their bedroom, still standing where Walter had ordered him, his back to the wall. He looked at Walter expressionlessly. Walter reached for Alex's good hand. Alex stiffened.

"Alex, we need to talk about this."

Alex stared at Walter blankly.

"I don't remember anything," he said flatly. "Let me alone, Walter, please let me alone. Isn't it enough that you sent her away? I loved her, Walter, she was so sweet. I didn't mean to frighten her. You think I don't care, well, fuck you, Walter, you don't understand at all. I don't know what happened! One minute I was trying to get her in the crate before I went to pick you up in the fucking car, and the next she was cowering in the corner..." Alex closed his eyes.

"I didn't hurt her, Walter, I swear I didn't. But I was afraid I would. I didn't know what to do. You weren't there. I left my keys inside with her and locked the door behind me so she'd be safe from me. My own dog, Walter. And now you hate me. I asked you if you'd fuck me and you sent me to stand in the corner. I hate you, Walter, I hate myself, and I fucking wish I were dead." Alex slammed his hand into the wall, hard, reopening his abraded knuckles, already raw from the outside door.

Walter was stunned. He had been too shocked to realize that he had hurt Alex.

"Alex, no, you misunderstood. I didn't mean to make you feel this way. Alex, we'll get through this." He watched Alex wipe his bloody hand across his tee shirt.

"Alex. Look at me. Suicide is never, ever an option. Do you understand that?"

Alex nodded, looking down.

"Yes, Walter," he whispered.

"Look at me, Alex," Walter insisted.

Alex raised his eyes.

"I want you to promise me you won't hurt yourself," Walter said.

"I promise, Walter," Alex sighed.

Walter let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Are you going to spank me?" Alex asked. Walter was silent.

"I can't, Alex," he said at length. "I'm too upset. I'm sorry, Alex." He walked out of the room.

Alex shivered. I hate him, he thought. I fucking hate him.

Walter put in an emergency call to the therapist.

"I need to see you today. It's urgent."

"Thank you for making time for me," Walter said, sinking tiredly onto the therapist's couch. He explained what had happened.

"I just don't understand," Walter said, his frustration evident. "He loved that dog. What could have prompted this? " The therapist shook her head.

"I don't know. Something triggered this, Walter. These things don't happen in a vacuum. I'm really at a loss to advise you. I am concerned at how quickly Alex seems to be deteriorating. Go see Graham. Call him now. You can use my phone. Have them page him."

They arranged to meet at Graham Miller's office.

"How is Alex?" Dr. Miller asked.

"A wreck." Walter massaged his temples.

"And how is the dog?" Dr. Miller continued.

"She'll get over it, probably faster than we will. I hate to give her up. She's such a pretty baby..." Walter's voice trailed off. "I wonder..."

"Yes?" Dr. Miller prompted.

"I called her 'pretty baby,'" Walter explained. "I'm just remembering one time when Alex had an extreme reaction to being called 'pretty boy' by a cop. Alex hates pet names. He never calls me anything but Walter, and I always call him Alex. "

"Interesting," Dr. Miller said. "We can assume Alex was abused from a very young age. It is possible the endearment 'pretty baby' triggers some very painful memories. You said that you found him under the car chanting to himself. What was he repeating?" Dr. Miller asked.

"Bad boy, stop that, don't cry." Walter took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes harshly.

"My best guess is that it was some sort of flashback," Dr. Miller said. "I think he identified so closely with the dog that he lost himself. Nothing I've seen makes me believe he would ever hurt a dog deliberately. That's not to say you shouldn't have sent her away. Keeping her was a risk." Dr Miller sighed.

"He needs your love and care, Walter, not your censure. Pulling back now is cruel. It is typical of someone with a borderline personality disorder to react to loss and perceived rejection with anger. Yes, he is terrified and acting out. But this is an illness, Walter, not a choice. We can up his current medication and add something else to it. However, what he really needs is all the love and support you can muster. More care...and more structure. We can choose to hospitalize him, if you feel it's beyond your capabilities. "

"I don't know what to do with him," Walter said.

"Let's try to remain rational, Walter. Alex is ill. He needs our help. I want to see him, today, whether or not he feels up to it. I think you need to insist."

Walter overrode Alex's objections and ordered him into the car. Taking Alex's good elbow, Walter marched him into the psychiatrist's office.

"Hello, Alex," Dr. Miller said. "I hear we've had a little trouble. Tell me, what prompted this? Walter tells me he nicknamed the dog 'pretty baby.' Did that upset you?"

"No," said Alex flatly. He shivered. "Fuck you, you're wrong. I don't care about a few words. No."

"So, pretty baby, you're not frightened at all." Dr. Miller watched Alex swallow convulsively.

"Shut--shut up," Alex hissed. "I mean it." His voice was ice. Walter prepared himself to restrain Alex if need be.

"Pretty baby," Dr. Miller said. "Sit down now. Be good."

"No! Walter, take me home, now!" Alex begged. "Please!"

Walter glared at Dr. Miller.

"Stop it," he said protectively, his arm around Alex. "You've made your point. Help him, man, don't frighten him like this."

"Walter, he needs you to model appropriate behavior," Dr. Miller warned.

Chastened, Walter closed his eyes for a moment, nodded his head.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," he said. Dr. Miller looked at him compassionately.

"It's hard, Walter," he acknowledged. "But I can't treat Alex if I don't know what I'm treating. I need to understand what triggered this reaction."

"I know, Doctor," Walter said. "But as you said, it's hard."

"Alex," Dr. Miller said. "Will you talk with Walter in the room?"

"I can't," Alex said tensely.

"Walter. Let me work with him, alone."

Walter hesitated.

"I am the only one who will punish him," Walter said, locking eyes with Dr. Miller. "The only one."

"I understand, Walter. I give you my word," Dr. Miller replied. Walter left the room.

"All right, Alex, we're going to start again from the beginning, " Dr. Miller said quietly. He noted Alex's pallor and labored breathing. "Alex, what are you feeling, right now?"

"Who are you?" Alex whispered.

"Who do you think?" Dr. Miller asked.

Alex screamed. And continued to scream, and scream, and scream.

Walter had been back in the room within seconds of Alex's first scream. He helped Dr. Miller restrain his hysterical lover. Used his full body weight to pin Alex flat as the psychiatrist quickly prepared a sedative hypo and emptied the drug into Alex's vein. Together, the two men lifted Alex on to the couch.

Alex woke to Walter's concerned hand stroking his hair out of his eyes, Walter's soft, familiar touch on his cheek.

"What--what did I do?" Alex moaned. He felt sick.

"Nothing bad, Alex," Walter said soothingly, reading the fear in Alex's eyes correctly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You panicked, that's all. We don't know why. Can you talk to me? What happened?"

"He was here," Alex said sickly.

"Who, Alex?" asked Walter.

"The English bastard," Alex whispered. Graham Miller inhaled sharply and Alex flinched.

"No, Alex," Walter soothed. "Just Dr. Miller, that's all. Not him. He's dead, Alex. You don't ever have to be afraid of him again."

"You're lying!" Alex yelped, panic in his eyes. "He was here, I know he was." He closed his eyes.

"You're trying to trick me," Alex said hollowly. Walter looked at Dr. Miller in dismay.

"We need to increase his medication, Walter," Dr. Miller said. "This increasing paranoia is not a good sign. I want to start him on Haldol, in addition to the Paxil. It'll work on the dissociative symptoms and paranoid ideation."

"I hate to see him on so much medication," Walter said.

"This is serious, Walter. He's decompensating. We need to nip this, now. Either follow this regimen at home, or agree to hospitalize him."

Walter carefully secured the bottle of pills Dr. Miller handed him deep in his pocket.

"Come on, Alex," he said gently, taking Alex's good arm. "We're going home." Alex sagged against him in relief.

"No hospitals, Walter," Alex whispered. "I'll be good. I promise I'll be good."

True to his word, Alex swallowed the additional pills Walter fed him without protest. He allowed Walter to clean the dirt from his wounds without a sound, although he gritted his teeth and his face went white at the feel of the soap. Walter covered Alex's knuckles with antibiotic ointment and lightly bandaged his hand with gauze.

Over the course of the next forty-eight hours, Walter began to feel as if he had stumbled down a rabbit hole into some inverted looking-glass world. The Haldol left Alex sedated, but with muscle spasms. The antihistamine Dr. Miller added to counteract the spasms exacerbated Alex's sedation and made him nauseous. The anti-nausea drug made Alex's dry mouth even drier and left him agitated.

"Please, no," Alex moaned. Walter took his jaw gently in his hand and slipping his thumb and forefinger between Alex's teeth, opened his mouth and placed the newest tiny pill on the back of his tongue.

"Swallow, Alex," he said, holding the glass of water to Alex's lips. Alex obeyed, but the green eyes that sought Walter's darker ones looked dazed and confused.

"I know," Walter soothed. "You're scared and you don't feel good. I know, Alex, I know." He stroked Alex's cheek gently.

Drawing Alex down on their bed, Walter pillowed Alex's head in his lap and rubbed his back in gentle, lazy circles. Gradually, Alex's eyes closed and his breathing slowed. There was a slight tap at the door.

"Walter?" John said quietly. Walter put his finger to his lips.

"He's asleep," he mouthed, carefully easing Alex's head from his lap and onto the pillow. Walter stood slowly and carefully tugged the covers over Alex. Closed the door gently behind him.

"How bad is it?" John asked.

"Bad," Walter said succinctly. "His mouth is dry all the time, he's sleepy, he's jumpy. Every time I complain to Miller about a side effect, he gives him a different medication to treat it and Alex ends up with more side effects. It's a nightmare. I have no idea if I'm doing the right thing or if I'm killing him. Both Miller and the therapist think I should hospitalize him."

"You can't, Walter," John said. Walter took off his glasses, wiped at his eyes tiredly.

"Thank you for saying that, John," he said gratefully. "I know that, it's just hard to keep believing I'm right when two professionals I mostly trust say differently." John grimaced.

"Walter, you know Alex. He would be terrified. There's no way."

"What I need, John, is a babysitter. He can't be left alone. He just falls apart."

"Look, if you need a break, I'll sit with him. Melvin will sit with him. Hell, Ringo will sit with him, too."

"Thank you, John. I just need to get out for a little bit. The pressure..." Walter's voice trailed off.

"I know," said John kindly. "Look, Walter, take as long as you need. I've got all the time in the world. I'll stay here until you get back."

Alex struggled awake despite the medication. He registered John's concerned presence alongside him.

"Where's Walter, John? I need Walter!" Alex begged. "I don't know what to do!"

John stroked Alex's hair gently back from his eyes.

"Walter will be here soon," John said soothingly. "Alex, you don't have to do anything. You're OK now, I'm right here. Easy, Walter will be here soon, I promise. Shh..." Despite John's reassurances, Alex lay rigid and silent, waiting anxiously for Walter to return.

"Please, oh please, Walter, " Alex begged. "Don't hurt me. Walter, it was an accident, I'm sorry."

Walter hesitated a moment, confused. His nostrils caught a faint whiff of urine. He touched the sheets gingerly. They felt damp. Jesus. Poor Alex.

"You're going to leave me, right?" Alex said. Walter closed his eyes.

"Alex, I love you. I'll never leave you. Why would you think that I wouldn't want you anymore?"

"You got rid of the dog," Alex pointed out. "You said you loved her, and you sent her away. Maybe she had too many accidents?"

Walter winced at Alex's confusion.

"Please Walter, I'm sorry! Don't send me away. I didn't mean to pee. It was an accident, I'm sorry. Please don't punish me!"

"I know it was an accident, Alex. It's probably the medication. It's all right. Alex, you know I never punished Cara for an accident. I'd never punish you for one, either."

"They did," Alex whimpered. "No, please, don't hurt me! Don't hit me! Please, don't leave me alone in the dark...oh please..." His voice trailed off hopelessly. He sounded very, very scared and very, very young.

Walter closed his eyes. Those bastards...he hated the Consortium more at that moment than he ever had in his life.

"It's all right, Alex. You're safe now. I'll never let anyone hurt you again." Walter tugged Alex close, rocking him against his chest.

"I got beaten. Bad. And then they left me alone in the dark place," Alex said, his voice flat. He shivered. Striving for calm, Walter held Alex close until he finally relaxed enough that Walter could park him in the armchair while he stripped and remade the bed.

It took a long time and a lot of reassurance, but finally, Alex slept.

Walter was tired and discouraged. This mixture of urgency and tedium reminded him of those awful last weeks spent nursing Sharon. As he straightened the kitchen, he wished fervently for a free hour.

Ringo materialized at the door.

"Hey man, could you use a little time? I'll keep an eye on Alex."

Walter thought wryly that Ringo's blond locks had never looked so much like angel's ringlets.

"Bless you, Ringo. Thank you so much. Go on up. Alex will be glad to see you. I know I am."

Ringo slouched up the stairs and moved carefully into Alex's line of sight.

"Hey, dude, you awake?" Ringo asked gently. "I got a game for us."

Alex struggled to open his eyes, then closed them wearily. Ringo sighed.

"Alex? Alex, try to wake up now.''

Alex shook his head.

"Can't, Ringo. 'M'sorry. I'm so tired," Alex said, his words slurring slightly. His eyes closed again. Ringo ground his teeth angrily. He was going to talk to Walter when Walter got back. This was just wrong. He scowled.

"Shit, Walter, so he screwed up with the dog. Big fucking deal! I grew up on a fucking farm; I know dogs. She won't even remember it. You're not being fair. It was a dog! Those Consortium fuckers did worse shit to Alex and he was a kid! You're being a prick, Walter."

Walter stared at Ringo. He had never seen the blond man so upset. Ringo glared back.

"OK, Ringo, OK," Walter said. He touched Ringo's shoulder gently. Ringo looked away.

"This is wrong, Walter," Ringo said. "He's overmedicated, they've got him fucked up so bad I'm amazed you're not on the phone screaming malpractice. Get him off that shit. Don't make him into a basket case."

Walter put in a call to Dr. Miller.

"Six to eight weeks, Walter, absolute minimum," Dr. Miller said implacably. "I can't in good conscience recommend stopping the medication before that. Alex needs the Haldol; we need to stabilize him. We are talking about a serious condition that involves a real risk of suicide. I understand you are concerned by how disoriented he seems. Let me remind you again that you have the option of hospitalizing him."

"I can't," Walter said. "I won't."

"The worst of the side effects should drop out within a week or two, Walter," Dr. Miller said. "Until then, you have to bear with them. There is nothing else I can suggest. There is absolutely no question in my mind that Alex needs this medication."

The therapist empathized with Walter's frustration.

"However, there is every reason to believe Alex will get past this, Walter. You can't expect recovery for a survivor of severe trauma and abuse to proceed in a straight line. There are going to be setbacks."

Walter nodded. It made sense.

"Perhaps you should look into opportunities for volunteer work at an animal shelter once Alex is feeling better," the therapist suggested. "I think it would be beneficial to let him work this through."

The new medications did their job. Gradually, Alex seemed to resurface. He wasn't a hundred percent. But he was much better than he had been. Cautiously, Dr. Miller reduced the dosage of Haldol and withdrew the antihistamine and anti nausea drugs. Alex seemed stable once again.

After much encouragement from the therapist, Walter broached the idea of volunteering at a nearby animal shelter with Alex.

"You're fucking crazy!" Alex exploded. "I can't do that! I won't! No!"

Alex seldom defied him so openly.

"I think it would be a positive experience for you, Alex," Walter said, gritting his teeth. "You don't have to agree with me, Alex. I won't make you do it. But I'm warning you, watch your mouth. Curse at me again and we'll be discussing this with you upside down over my lap. I'm very serious."

Alex shuddered. There was no warmth whatsoever in Walter's voice.

"All right, Walter, I'll do it, if you want me to," Alex said placatingly. He looked hopefully at Walter, eager for any hint of approval. His shoulders slumped when Walter merely nodded.

"Then we're agreed? You'll give it a try?"

"Yes," Alex said quietly. He tried to ignore his disappointment at Walter's coolness.

I deserve it. I've been a real shit.

The shelter volunteers were glad for the new recruit. Alex spent his first few hours washing food bowls, folding old towels and stacking cans of dog food.

"Fetch that dog for me, will you please?" The older woman volunteer pointed Alex towards a cage and handed him a lead.

Obediently, Alex approached the little blond cocker spaniel. Her chocolate eyes reminded him of Walter. He leaned over her, intending to clip the leash to her collar. Without warning, she sank her teeth into his good hand.

"Ow! Ow!! " Alex yelped. Then, catching himself, he fell silent. He shook his hand violently, trying to free himself from the small dog's jaws. Blood flew everywhere. Alex tensed in pain.

"What happened? What happened?" Several other volunteers converged on the scene. The little cocker spaniel retreated and was shooed into an open pen.

"Did she just go for you for no reason?" demanded the woman who had sent Alex to fetch the little spaniel, glowering at the dog.

"Umm--" Alex stuttered.

"I knew it!" The woman sounded angry and certain. "I never liked these badly bred cocker spaniels. She just went for you, didn't she? That's must be why her owners gave her up. She should be put down."

"I provoked her," Alex said stiffly. His hand hurt, but his heart hurt worse. Put down. Killed. No.

"You provoked her! That's outrageous! What are you doing here? We're supposed to be helping these dogs! Go home. We don't need you." The woman's tirade left no room for argument. She abandoned Alex on a battered leather couch outside the office door. His shoulders hunched, Alex painfully eased his cell phone from his pocket with his bloody hand and called Walter.

"They're sending me home. Pick me up."

Walter had scarcely parked his car when he was mobbed by several volunteers. There seemed little doubt about what had happened. They all agreed that Alex had admitted provoking the dog that had bitten him.

Goddamn it! What was it with Alex and dogs, Walter asked himself. What the hell had Alex been thinking? He headed in to where Alex sat, waiting.

"I am going to punish you, you do know that," Walter said. Alex huddled sadly into himself, cradling his wounded hand against his stomach. It hurt, it hurt a lot. Almost as much as his feelings did. Walter hadn't even asked him for an explanation. Alex felt totally alone. Walter was never this mean.

Walter studied Alex's pale, hopeless face.

"Alex, I'm sorry," Walter said, feeling like a heel. "Shh, come here now, I know it hurts. I know you're scared." He put his arm around Alex's shoulders, tried to tug Alex closer. Alex flinched.

"I am sorry," Walter said gently. "Please, Alex, I want to help you." Alex studied him apprehensively.

"You're mad at me," he said. Walter sighed.

"Alex, it's been rough for both of us. Let's not make it any harder. Let me help you. I promise we'll work this out. Shh, that's it, I've got you now. Easy, Alex, you're going to be OK."

Alex had turned into Walter, burying his face in his chest. Walter stroked his lank hair gently, noting how lackluster the dark strands were. He hadn't brushed Alex's hair since the day he had been forced to give Cara away.

Christ, Alex felt like ice. Walter worried about the possibility of shock. There was a small coffee and tea station set up by the abandoned receptionist's desk. Walter helped himself to a styrofoam cup and placing a tea bag in the bottom, added hot water. Let the tea steep briefly before stirring in several generous spoonfuls of sugar.

"Can you drink a little something?" he coaxed, holding the cup of hot, sweet tea to Alex's lips. Alex sipped, shook his head.

"You're going to get stuck feeding me again," he whispered. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble, Walter."

"You're no trouble," Walter said, feeling his heart break at the pain in Alex's voice. The fear. He had been cruel, he thought. Alex was not a well man. What had happened with their dog had not been within Alex's control. He had been wrong to pull back from Alex in disgust. Slowly, he rubbed Alex's back. Alex seemed grateful for the attention.

"Do I have to go to the doctor?" Alex asked softly. Walter nodded.

"Animal bites get infected very easily, Alex. We need to be sure it's clean."

"Will you stay with me the whole time?" Alex asked. "Or do you think I'm being stupid about this?"

"I'll stay, Alex. You're not stupid, just frightened of doctors. Everyone has something that scares him. It's nothing to be ashamed of. " Walter felt his heart soften. This was Alex as he knew him, not the cold stranger who had turned from their dog and let her be given away without a word of protest.

"I need him to let me examine the wound," the doctor said, looking at Walter. He obviously understood their relationship. "Would you help him extend his arm, Walter, please?"

"Let the doctor see," Walter coaxed. Alex froze. Walter rubbed his back reassuringly.

"Lean back against Walter. That's it. Let him support you. You don't have to watch." Alex buried his face against Walter, flushing at his own weakness, but relieved. The doctor studied the wound.

"We have to clean it, pack it with antibiotics. Does the dog have proof of vaccination against rabies?"

"Yes," Alex whispered.

"At least we don't have to worry about that then. I'm going to give you a local anesthetic. It will only hurt for a minute. Take a deep breath and hold still." Carefully, the doctor slid the needle under Alex's skin. Alex stiffened. Walter stroked his hair comfortingly, his anger all but gone. Poor Alex. He had forgotten just how frightened Alex was of doctors.

Alex stayed absolutely still as the doctor cleaned the wound, packed it with antibiotics and bandaged it. His harsh breathing was the only sound in the quiet room.

The doctor took Walter aside.

"He's not reacting normally. I would strongly recommend you get him some psychiatric support."

"He's in therapy," Walter said.

"Good. Be sure he continues. He is not a well man," the doctor said sadly. "By the way, Walter, I pulled your chart. You're way overdue for a checkup. As far as I can see, no one's followed up with you since your hospital stay."

"I'll get to it," Walter said unconvincingly. The doctor nodded.

"That young man needs you. You have to take care of yourself," he said, cleverly deducing that this would be the best way to convince Walter to come in. Walter grinned ruefully.

"You're good," he said to the doctor. The doctor smiled.

"I come to it honestly. My father was a doctor. He practiced 'family medicine' long before it became a specialty. Make an appointment, Walter. For both of you. You both need full physicals."

"I'll take it under advisement," Walter said in a noncommittal voice. Hell would doubtless freeze over before he would be able to get Alex back in here.

Prescription for painkillers in hand, Walter ushered Alex back into the car and headed for home. Although Alex was drowsy and subdued, he refused to let Walter settle him in their bedroom. It was clear that he badly needed to be close to Walter.

Walter let Alex sit at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee and nibbling on crackers, while he started dinner. The ringing phone broke the comfortable silence.

"Hello?" Walter said. He listened quietly, his eyes on Alex.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Walter asked, listening some more.

"Yes, I see. Yes. All right. Thank you very much for letting me know." Walter returned the phone to its cradle, shaking his head.

"That was a very interesting call from the animal shelter, Alex. Apparently your little cocker spaniel bit the child of another volunteer in the face, for no reason. A little girl who needed twelve stitches to close the gash. A little girl who is lucky she didn't lose an eye, Alex. Do you want to tell me something?"

"Umm...no?" said Alex softly.

"Alex, you were supposed to help evaluate the dogs for temperament. Now tell me, why did she bite you? Did you provoke her, like you said?"

"Walter, she didn't mean it, she was scared! I leaned over her to snap her leash on and she panicked. It wasn't her fault. Fuck you, fuck all of them! I didn't want them to kill her." Alex glowered at Walter.

"Alex," Walter said softly. "There are dogs like that. She's a fear biter."

"A fear biter," Alex mused softly. "I think that's what I am, too." He looked at Walter miserably.

Wincing, Walter closed his eyes. Alex was exactly right; that was what he was.

"Oh God, Alex." Don't bite, Alex.

"Come here, Alex," Walter soothed. "Nothing's going to harm you. Shh, I have you now."

Alex resisted Walter's embrace for a moment, then sagged gratefully against him.

"What's going to happen to the dog?" Alex asked.

"A dog like that is dangerous. A child is in the hospital because of her," Walter sighed. "They may have to put the dog to sleep, Alex."

"She was so pretty," Alex said softly. Then, even more quietly, "She was so scared. Like me. Walter, how long before you get rid of me?" Anguished eyes sought Walter's.

"Never, Alex," Walter answered, his own gaze steady and reassuring. "Never." A fear biter. He hugged Alex, saddened by his roughened breathing.

"Walter? I should have told you the truth, right?" Alex asked tentatively. Walter sighed.

"I really didn't give you a chance to explain, Alex. I wish I had. We might have been able to prevent the dog from biting a child. We might have been able to save the dog." Walter suddenly felt very tired.

"I'm sorry," Alex said despondently. "Walter, are you going to punish me? Walter, are you going to spank me?"

Walter considered the question carefully. On the one hand, Alex had lied. Lying was strictly prohibited. On the other hand, he had not even attempted to talk the incident through with Alex. If Alex had really provoked the dog, he should have been punished. Walter had felt too heartsick to press Alex on that point. If only he had! The truth might have surfaced sooner and this second incident might have been prevented.

Alex watched Walter's face, careful to keep his own expression neutral. He had many years of practice at anticipating punishment. Walter noticed how Alex's eyes darted anxiously from side to side despite his best efforts at concealing his worry.

"Alex, I'm really at a loss here. You deserve to be punished. You deserve to be spanked. But I don't see how I can, when I dropped the ball like this. I should have insisted we talk about this, as soon as we were done at the doctor's. Instead, I let myself be deluded into thinking I understood what had happened."

Alex's head drooped.

"Shit, Walter, I never imagined I'd be sorry to avoid a spanking. But it hurts when you assume what I've done is so bad that it's not even worth trying to correct me. I didn't provoke her, Walter. I just said it so she wouldn't be punished." He looked at Walter reproachfully.

"I understand, Alex. I'll take care of you. Come here now." Walter felt chastened. Helping Alex stand, Walter ushered him into the living room.

Walter rummaged through the shopping bags near the front door and drew the fine new hairbrush he had bought earlier that morning from its packaging.

"Come here, Alex," Walter repeated, wanting to make up for his earlier neglect. Alex turned to him and froze, looking at the hairbrush with horrified eyes.

"Please, Walter, no! I was bad, I know I was bad, but you promised..." he wailed, his eyes pinned to the brush. Too late, Walter realized what Alex was afraid of.

"No, Alex, no. Never. Only my hand, only ever my hand. Shh, don't panic, it's all right. Alex, look at me. Stay still. I'm going to touch you now, all right?" He laid the hairbrush aside.

Alex trembled as Walter took his good hand and drew him in, snaking his other arm around his waist.

"Shh, it's OK, easy now, that's it." Walter murmured reassurance as he shepherded Alex towards the couch. He drew Alex down with him, rolled sideways so that they could talk face to face, their bodies touching.

"Alex. I didn't mean to frighten you. Cara ate our old brush, that last day."

Alex winced. Walter sighed.

"We will have to talk about it sometime, Alex. But not now, when you're this upset. The new hairbrush was supposed to be a present for you, Alex. I bought it to replace our old one. Alex, you know what I promised. My hand, only ever my hand. Shh..."

"I'm sorry, Walter," Alex whispered. "I do trust you. I just..." He shrugged, helpless to explain.

"I know," Walter said. "I know. You were startled. Shh, it's all right now. Stay put, OK? Just for a sec..." He stood and retrieved the brush. Held it where Alex could see it. Alex studied it, reached tentatively to touch its satinwood back. Sighed.

"May I?" Walter asked softly. Alex nodded apprehensively.

Wordlessly, Walter seated himself. He cradled Alex's head in his lap and began to brush the dark hair back from his forehead. One, two, three strokes, and Alex's eyes closed. He sighed with pleasure.

"I love you, Walter," he said simply.

"I love you too, Alex," Walter said, his throat tight. "I would never hurt you, Alex. You are my heart."

"Walter, could we go back to the shelter? You said they might put the dog down. Could we help her? Could we take her home? Please, Walter, please."

"All right." Despite his own reservations, Walter couldn't resist the naked longing in Alex's voice. Alex clearly identified strongly with this damaged dog. If she could be redeemed, perhaps Alex would believe that he could, too.

The kind-eyed volunteer at the desk shook his head at their inquiry.

"I'm sorry, guys. That little dog doesn't look so good."

The blond cocker spaniel lay on her side in her cage, her eyes dull, her labored breathing audible. She thumped her tail half-heartedly, then growled feebly as Alex and Walter approached her cage.

"Please Walter," Alex begged. "We have to help her."

Walter and the volunteer exchanged glances. Wordlessly, the volunteer handed Walter a towel. Carefully, keeping his hands well clear of her mouth, Walter lifted the dog from her cage and carried her to the car.

Alex held the limp form in his lap as Walter drove carefully, yet swiftly, to the vet's office. Walter tried to breathe deeply and calm himself. He was prepared for what was undoubtedly going to be a very, very bad scene. He knew dogs. The one in Alex's lap was dying.

Alex held the dog gently. He felt ice cold. What...his mind tried to cope with what had happened.

"I didn't hurt her," he whispered to himself.

Walter looked over.

"No Alex, you didn't. She's sick, Alex. It isn't your fault."

"Walter." Alex's voice was flat. "Walter, she's not breathing."

Not sure what else to do, Walter carried the limp body into the vet's office.

The vet took one look and cursed bitterly under his breath.

"Probably a heart defect. Common with this kind of cocker spaniel, unfortunately. Goddamn puppy mills." He took the body from Walter. Shook his head. No.

Walter watched as Alex's face whitened and his eyes went blank.

"What's a puppy mill?" Alex asked woodenly.

The vet grimaced.

"It's a business, a dirty, sordid business. The female dogs are bred over and over, forced to birth litter after litter, until their bodies give out. The puppies are taken from their mothers too early and kept in wire floored cages, untrained and unloved." The vet looked sadly at the limp body he still held in his arms. With a sigh, he laid the animal across the reception counter.

"Pet stores buy the puppies, triple the price, and sell them to well-meaning, ill-informed dupes who want a 'purebred dog.' When their new masters can't cope with the dog's lousy temperament and expensive health problems, the dog ends up at a shelter. It' s a circle of misery. Poor thing, she's probably better off dead." The vet shook his head regretfully.

Alex's face didn't change. The vet recognized his lack of affect for the mask it was.

"You held her until the end," the vet said to Alex, his voice gentle. "She knew she wasn't alone; that counts for something." The vet turned to Walter.

"I'll take care of the body. You two go home."

The two sober men returned to their car. Alex turned to Walter, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Walter tried to hug Alex, but Alex held himself rigid and aloof.

"I just want to go home now, Walter," he said, shrugging off Walter's embrace and slipping into the car. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Please Walter, take me home."

Walter did his best to salvage their interrupted dinner, but neither he nor Alex had any appetite. Wearily, they prepared for bed.

"Walter?" Alex asked softly. "I deserve to be punished. Please, you have to help me. You have to spank me."

"Isn't there any other way I can make you feel better, Alex?" Walter asked. "I'll cuddle you. We can make love. I really don't want to spank you, Alex."

"Please, Walter. I was bad, so bad. I don't want to feel this way. I want you to forgive me. I need you to punish me. I need you to spank me."

"Alex, I can't do this tonight," Walter said wearily. "Come here. I want--I need to hold you, Alex."

Alex blinked.

"You need to hold me, Walter?" he asked softly, confused. "All right. Whatever." He curled into Walter's arms.

"Do you want me to suck you, Walter?" Alex offered hesitantly.

Walter sighed.

"No, Alex. Just let me hold you." Walter stroked Alex's hair lovingly.

Alex shuddered.

Walter sighed again. This was clearly not working for Alex. Alex needed to be spanked.

"It's all right, Alex. Just sleep now. I will take care of you, I promise. We will talk about your punishment in the morning. I will spank you then."

With a sigh of relief, Alex relaxed into Walter. Buried his face in Walter's furry chest, twined his fingers in the dark tendrils.

"Thank you," Alex whispered. "I love you, Walter. Good night."

Morning brought a change of heart.

"I'm an asshole," Alex announced, staring moodily into his coffee cup. He scowled at Walter.

"Yes?" Walter waited for an explanation.

"What the fuck was I thinking last night? I can't believe I do this. I can't believe I fucking ask you to spank me!"

Walter smiled. Defiance was always an indication that Alex was feeling better.

"Finish your breakfast, Alex," Walter said mildly.

Alex chopped his eggs into little bits and shoved them to the side of his plate, shredded his toast in a neat pile, and pushed away his juice.

"I can't wait anymore, Walter. Let's get this over with. Shit. I really am a fucking asshole. I'm a full-grown man. Why the fuck did I ever agree to this?"

"Stop cursing, Alex," Walter warned. "You know how I feel about cursing."

Alex gulped. Ouch. He did indeed. He had no intention of exploring that subject with Walter again.

"Come, Alex. Living room." Alex padded reluctantly after Walter.

Walter seated himself on the couch and drew Alex in front of him.

"What is this spanking for, Alex?"

"Because I'm a nasty sonofabitch. I made you give our dog away. I fucked up at the shelter. I'm a worthless piece of shit."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. You're going to have to do better than that, Alex. Try again."

Alex glared at Walter. Walter held him firmly in place.

"Try again, Alex," Walter coaxed, his voice gentle. "What is this spanking for?"

"I scared Cara," Alex said softly. "I lost my temper and I frightened her."

"That's part of it, Alex," Walter agreed.

"I lied about how I got bitten and because of that a kid got hurt," Alex said quietly.

"Now you're thinking clearly, Alex," Walter said approvingly.

"I wished I were dead," Alex whispered.

Walter sighed.

"Nothing I can do will ever make up for all you suffered, Alex. But you are safe now. That I promise. I will never let anyone hurt you again. And you are never to hurt yourself. You are never, ever to forget how important you are to me. You talk to me. You tell me when you're scared. I love you, Alex. I'll always help you. Suicide is never an option. Do you understand me, Alex?"

"Yes, Walter. I talk to you if something's wrong. I tell you if something scares me. I let you help me."

"Very good, Alex. I am going to spank you now. And then we are going to go upstairs and make love. I am going to show you just how much you matter to me, and just how much I love you. Come here."

Carefully, Walter drew Alex forward and across his lap. He rubbed Alex's back gently, then slipped his hand under the elastic waists of Alex's sweats and boxers and tugged them down past his thighs. Alex closed his eyes resignedly. He cringed at the first stinging smack. Jesus, Walter had a hard hand. Alex clenched his jaw. He would not cry. He deserved this.

Walter spanked Alex thoroughly, carefully, until his bottom was shaded red. Despite his resolve to take his spanking bravely, Alex began to whimper as the hard, implacable smacks continued.

Walter rubbed his sore hand gently over the small of Alex's back.

"Easy, Alex, easy. It's over. All done here. Shh, you're OK. Come with me now." He eased Alex's clothing back into place and drew him upright. Alex leaned into Walter, content to be lead upstairs.

Walter pushed Alex gently onto his back on their bed. Alex flinched as his smarting ass touched the mattress. Walter winced sympathetically. He stripped first himself and then Alex. He seated himself alongside Alex, stroked his sweaty hair gently.

"Thirsty, Alex?" Walter asked softly. Alex shook his head. No.

"Stay with me, Walter," Alex begged. "Hold me."

Walter stretched out beside Alex and took Alex in his arms. Alex licked his lips and leaned in for a kiss. Walter kissed Alex deeply, thoroughly. Alex closed his eyes trustingly, opened his mouth to Walter's explorations. Alex moaned as Walter stroked his hand over Alex's flat stomach, grasped his eager, rigid cock. His back arched reflexively.

"How shall we do this, Alex?" Walter asked, teasing his thumb over the head of Alex's cock. "Hmm?" Drops of clear fluid beaded the tip.

"I don't care! Please, Walter, you're killing me, oh god, just do something!" Alex moaned. Walter released Alex's cock, trailed his finger around Alex's balls and over the tender flesh behind them. Alex bent his leg over Walter's hip, allowing Walter easy access to the tight opening in his ass. Scooping the lube from their night table, Walter coated his fingers and began to massage Alex. Worked first one, then two fingers deep inside. Enjoyed Alex's desperate writhing.

"Please, Walter, put it in me already," Alex begged. Walter covered his own rigid cock with lube and guided the slick shaft into position. Alex strained against him, widening himself, and Walter slipped inside. He paused a moment to allow Alex's muscles time to accommodate to his girth.

"So good, Walter, so good," Alex moaned. Walter fucked him slowly and gently, at the same time working Alex's cock in his fist. Alex twisted desperately, trying for more friction. Taking pity on his lover, Walter thrust harder and faster. He tightened his grip on Alex's cock. With a groan, Alex shot his cum over Walter's fist, moaning his pleasure. The sound pushed Walter over the brink. He felt his own cock pulse deep inside Alex. Knew Alex felt the hot cum spilling into him.

"Oh, shit, Walter," Alex gasped.

Walter smiled with satisfaction.

"Love you too, Alex " he said, amused. He kissed Alex gently and sprawled on his back. Snugged Alex next to him and guided Alex's head onto his chest. Alex closed his eyes.

"Don't ever leave me, Walter," Alex whispered hoarsely. Walter stroked his face gently. He could feel traces of moisture at the corners of Alex's eyes.

"Don't you ever leave me either, Alex," Walter said quietly. "I love you. Shh, it's all right now. I've got you. You're safe."

"Walter?" Alex said softly. "What the vet said? It was almost like that for us. We weren't in wire cages, at least most of the time. But we didn't have mothers and no one loved us. They beat us if we made mistakes, if we broke a rule, if we annoyed them. Sometimes we were sold. Our masters weren't very nice."

"My God, Alex," Walter forced the words past the lump in his throat. "I'm so sorry, Alex."

Alex nodded.

"I get scared, Walter. I understood why that little cocker spaniel bit. She knew it didn't do any good to beg. Cara didn't know that. She cried when I frightened her, Walter. She cried like a fucking baby. Do you know what they did to us when we cried? They beat us, Walter. They beat us until we learned to stop crying. I didn't hit Cara, Walter. But I came so fucking close. Oh shit. Why am I crying now, Walter?" Alex's voice broke.

Walter stroked Alex's hair.

"It's safe to cry here, Alex. I'll never hurt you. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"Walter, the vet was right. That dog was better off dead. Would I have been better off dead, too?"

"No! Dear God, Alex, no! I can't imagine my life without you. Alex, you promised me. No more suicide attempts. No matter what. Never."

Alex closed his eyes.

"That was a hell of a spanking you gave me the time I tried that," he said softly. "I don't ever want a spanking like that again. I guess I'd better be good, huh? I guess I'd better stick around."

"You are my life, Alex. You'd damn well better stick around."

"I love you, Walter. So much."

"I love you, Alex. Forever."

*****FIN*****

  
Archived: January 11, 2002 


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